


I'm your puppet, you are Jim Henson

by devol



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: 3rd person but it's all yoongi's inner monologue i guess, ?? - Freeform, Anal Fingering, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Jeon Jungkook, Comfort, Fluff, Gay Sex, Hoseok and seokjin meddle with everything, Jeon Jungkook is a Brat, M/M, Namjoon is Jungkook's older brother, Namjoon is protective, One Shot, Praise Kink, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Smut, Teasing, Things are not as they seem, Top Min Yoongi | Suga, Yoongi Smokes, a bonus chapter coming soon, jungkook is a brat at first but yoongi fucks it out of him, mentions of Jungkook/Jimin, overuse of pet names!!, so does jungkook sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:21:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21672856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devol/pseuds/devol
Summary: As Yoongi takes the final drag of his cigarette, stubbing it out on the railing, he looks back at the door. Like he sensed it, Jungkook glances behind him and meets Yoongi’s eyes for a suggestive moment before he’s being led away by his friend.It’s only fitting that Yoongi can’t get Jungkook out of his mind when he finally goes home at the respectable hour of two in the morning, replaying his sweet smiles and tempting lips stretched around the straw of his drink.Of course he’s Namjoon’s brother. It’s just Yoongi’s luck.alternatively: Jungkook is Namjoon's little brother and Yoongi falls for the worst kind of cliche
Relationships: Jeon Jungkook/Min Yoongi | Suga
Comments: 23
Kudos: 547





	I'm your puppet, you are Jim Henson

**Author's Note:**

> hello
> 
> so i suppose there isn't much to say other than i'm happy with the way that this turned out and i hope you are too
> 
> xoxo

([this](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3yTMxrIzSRwzV4aGm4a2xI?si=Iu0d_UuURgW936UdgtcfEA) is a playlist i decided to throw together if you so choose to listen to while you read this fic)

“Jesus, Hyung. How long has it been since you showered?”

That’s the greeting Yoongi gets from Hoseok, followed by an infuriating snicker. He doesn’t appreciate the boy barging in, but that’s what he gets when he gives Hoseok his pass code to his studio. He makes a mental note to change it very soon.

Turning in his chair, Yoongi takes in the sight of him, a bag of takeout in his hand. “Who’s that for,” he asks, dodging the question. So maybe he’s been a little too busy the past few days. It’s not like he’s been rolling around in the _dirt_ or anything.

Hoseok grins, heart-shaped, raising his arm and holding the bag out. “You. Jin-hyung said you might be hungry.”

Yoongi just sighs and pulls his headphones off his head before setting them down on his desk. Hoseok is hereby forgiven, but only because he comes bearing food. The little shit knows it, too, settling on the sofa with a perky smile and dragging the cups out.

Wordlessly, Yoongi rolls in his chair to the coffee table where Hoseok is getting his own food out. In no time, he’s settling down and inhaling his noodles. Apparently Seokjin was right; he was really hungry.

The silence that comes as they eat is more comfortable than anything else. Yoongi’s secretly thankful for the little break, but he won’t admit out loud. He has the feeling that the man across from him knows anyway.

They’re almost finished eating when Hoseok speaks again. “Are you coming to that party tonight?”

Inwardly, Yoongi groans. It’s not that he hates parties, per say. He’s actually grown a little fond of the chaos, especially since he moved to Seoul and made friends with Hoseok and Seokjin. It’s just, the guy hosting the party is Namjoon, and he doesn’t really know him all _that_ well. Their only mutual friends are Seokjin and Hoseok, and if Namjoon is anything like them, the party will not be a small gathering of any sort. More importantly, strangers ensue. Letting loose with your friends is different than with strangers.

But he supposes he needs this. Yoongi needs to get to know Namjoon better, since the man is somewhat of a genius and Yoongi asks his opinion on a lot of things. And they work together, so they should get along. Whatever.

He could use a reason to shower and get himself in some decent clothes, out among humanity.

“Probably. I’m not sure,” Yoongi says flatly, mostly indifferent.

Count on Hoseok to push. “Jin-hyung will want you to come.”

Yoongi continues to shove around his noodles with his chopsticks as he snorts and rolls his eyes, grumbling, “Seokjin is not my mom.” But. Seokjin has looked after him a lot more than most normal people would. Even when they first met, when Yoongi was a ball of tension and constantly stoic, Seokjin had taken him in like a brother. Even referred him to the company Yoongi sells his music with now. He’s more fond of his goofy friend than he lets on most of the time.

Hoseok just laughs at that, because he knows just as well as Yoongi that if Seokjin wants him to show up at this damn party, he’s probably going to. “It’ll be fun, and you need to get laid.”

He doesn’t comment on that for several reasons. One, the boy isn’t wrong but he doesn’t want to admit that. Two, Yoongi isn’t sure that a party at Namjoon’s place is really the location to find a hookup.

“Shut up. I’m changing the code to my studio,” Yoongi doesn’t sound very convincing with a smile on his face.

When Yoongi makes it back to his apartment, there’s still a gracious time to get ready for the party. He doesn’t need to leave for an hour and a half. So he showers, long and with scorching hot water, his pale skin turning a pleasant pink. It might have been half an hour before he gets out, but his utilities are covered. Who cares.

Yoongi’s dragging out some clothes to wear when he checks his phone. There’s about 17 texts from his friends—no surprise before a large party, of course—but nothing from work, nothing to give him the excuse of not going.

So he gives in, his fate decided. He throws together an [outfit](https://pmcfootwearnews.files.wordpress.com/2019/04/bts-04-1.jpg?w=1024) half-heartedly and lounges around.

By the time he does make it to the party, he’s fashionably late because his bed was just too comfortable to get out of. He considered ditching it, but then the tattoo artist couple that live in the apartment above his started having animal sex again and he took that as a sign.

Now, for whatever reason, Yoongi had sort of expected Namjoon to live in some lavish apartment with an amazing view of the city and a concierge or something. But he was pleasantly surprised that it was much more low key, something like Yoongi’s apartment. Just a little more expensive.

When he let himself in, he was instantly spotted by Seokjin, who was hanging around the bar that separated the kitchen and the living room. The cheerful man was beaming before Yoongi could speak. “Ah, Yoongi-ah! You came!”

There’s a faint smell of alcohol and laundry in the air, much better than the usual sweat and stale food. Many people Yoongi don’t recognize are here, roaming the house freely. The chatter is louder than the music, which Yoongi presumes is because Namjoon probably doesn’t want to get yelled at by his landlord.

“Unfortunately,” Yoongi exhales, a little solemn. He doesn’t actually see Namjoon anywhere, especially with Hoseok comping up now crowding his space as he reaches the bar.

Hoseok inserts himself, nudging Yoongi and chirping, “Don’t lie. It’s gotta feel good getting out of that studio for a little while.”

Hoseok is surprisingly sober given how Yoongi can smell his cup from here. It’s Gatorade mixed with something strong, most likely vodka. It’s hard to tell with the overwhelming mask of blueberry. It looks and smells good.

Yoongi doesn’t respond, not really. He figures he could use a drink himself, and Hoseok is already turning his attention to some girl behind him reaching for her phone, so he slips away expertly.

He barely mumbles little “excuse me”’s as he weaves his way around hovering bodies, to the other side of the bar. That’s where the kitchen is, that’s where the alcohol is.

Just as he’s pulling a plastic cup from the stack, Yoongi senses someone following his path and coming to stand a couple steps away from him. He begins pouring tequila into it and looks over curiously.

It’s a guy, leaning against the counter and watching him. The calm look in his eyes tells Yoongi that he’s waiting on him so that he can make a drink himself.

He’s… really cute, actually.

It’s not a huge deal that Yoongi thinks he’s cute. It’s just, he hasn’t gotten laid in a while and even since his last relationship it’s just been casual sex and passing faces. But whoever this is, it actually has Yoongi stopping for a second.

“What’re you drinking,” he asks, all casual and a little polite. He’s finished with his drink, a slightly horrendous mix of tequila and orange juice. He likes the tang of it, but he finds that most of his Korean friends do not.

Yoongi knows better than to get too invested; this ridiculously attractive man could open his mouth and be a total lunatic, who knows.

“Oh,” he says suddenly, like he wasn’t expecting Yoongi to address him. He smiles a little and nods at the glass bottles in front of Yoongi. “Just vodka and pink lemonade.”

Yoongi doesn’t know why that makes a small smile stretch on his lips. He just finds it oddly sweet.

With a friendliness Yoongi didn’t know he possessed, he grabs another cup and sets to making the drink. “Strong?” He looks back at the stranger as he asks, lifting his brows in question. He _swears_ that looking at him twice only makes him more attractive the second time around. It’s hard for Yoonig to keep his eyes on his face and not look at his body. Because wow… his body.

“Not very,” he shakes his head, resting more of his weight against the counter. “Work in the morning,” he explains with a cute tilt of his head.

Yoongi nods in understanding. Though, judging by the type of party, he’s sort of curious as to why this guy would be here if that’s the case. With the cap unscrewed, he begins to pour some of the alcohol into the red cup. “What’s your name,” the guy asks, having to raise his voice over the sound of some hollering in the living room.

When Yoongi meets his eyes again, he’s got his brows furrowed, like he’s trying to remember something. Like he’s is supposed to know Yoongi's name already. “Yoongi,” he answers. He glances back down at the cup before him for a moment so that he can observe the amount of lemonade he’s putting in it. Then he inquires, “Yours?”

“Jungkook,” he— _Jungkook_ \--responds as Yoongi hands him the cup. “Thanks, for making this, by the way.”

Jungkook seem a little shy now, which is truthfully endearing. Yoongi supposes it’s because he’s not focused on mixing drinks, but, rather, Jungkook entirely.

He’s _sure_ he heard that name somewhere before, but there are a lot of relative friends when it comes to Namjoon, so he doesn’t question it. He stands with his drink in his hand and his back to the living room, leaned up against the bar across from Jungkook.

Finally, Yoongi allows himself to observe the boy in full. His eyes rake up and down the length of his body, his legs—don’t get him started on Jungkook’s _waist_ —and his [outfit](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EA93n0rUIAE7MJx.jpg), nothing too flashy really, but Jungkook makes it look _good_. Yoongi isn’t really sure what his type is, but Jungkook’s got to be it.

Breaking Yoongi out of his reverie, Jungkook turns and reaches for something on the back of the counter that’s behind him. Yoonig swears he tries not to look at his ass, but it’s just too good of an opportunity. It’s worth it, too. When Jungkook is facing Yoongi again, there are two straws in his grasp.

Jungkook steps forward so that he can hand one to Yoongi, a little smile on his pretty lips. Yoongi takes one and practically purrs, “Thank you, pretty.”

The pink that rises in his cheeks is impossible to miss from that. He quickly tries to mask it by pulling a face at Yoongi’s drink. “What is that?”

Yoongi looks down at his drink and then back up at Jungkook, expression sassy. “It’s orange juice and tequila, like a tequila sunrise?” He sounds a little defensive, but it’s all in good nature. When the boy eyes him skeptically, Yoongi can’t help but grin. What, a guy like Yoongi can’t like a tequila sunrise? “It’s not as bad as it sounds, the way I make it. Ever tried it?” If it weren’t for the flatness of his tone, it’d be obvious that he was trying to prove himself or something.

Jungkook’s eyes narrow at that, pursing his lips. “No,” he says, something like a pout. Goddamn if that isn’t cute. Yoongi raises the cup, lifting the straw up a bit and pointing it at Jungkook to prompt him. After a moment, he gives in and steps forward again.

Yoongi could just _hand_ him the cup, but he likes the way his hair stands up when Jungkook gets close to him, when he can smell the very faint scent of his cologne if he tries. Yoongi keeps the straw clasped between his fingers, and the other boy gets the message, leaning down a little to wrap his lips around the plastic tantalizingly. Yoongi tries to play the hitch in his breath off as a sniffle as he watches Jungkook, feels his fingers graze him for the briefest of moments before Jungkook holds the straw higher up.

He pulls off of it after a reasonable swallow, licking his lips. Yoongi’s eyes are drawn to the motion like a moth to a flame. Jungkook’s eyes are momentarily hazy, and it’s-- _really_ fucking hot, but then he wipes the look away and breaks the tension-riddled-silence. “You know, I kind of hate it,” he deadpans. It makes Yoongi laugh, an actual genuine rumble from his chest.

So far, Yoongi has learned the following about Jungkook: his name, the fact that he has to work in the morning, that he likes pink lemonade, he’s never tried a tequila sunrise (until now), he blushes when Yoongi calls him pretty, his sense of humor is strangely similar to his, and that he really, really wants to take Jungkook back to his apartment tonight.

He’s just about to ask the boy in question if he came here with or for someone when a figure bounces up next to the two of them. It’s Namjoon, stylishly dressed in a jean jacket, a red striped shirt, black jeans and some boots to match. He slings an arm around Jungkook’s waist naturally, making Yoongi’s stomach flip unpleasantly. Oh god, is Jungkook _with_ Namjoon? Fuck.

“You better keep an eye on Jimin. He’s gonna be plastered by the end of the night at this rate,” he jokes, addressing Jungkook. Then he seems to notice Yoongi, turning his head some and smiling, dimples making an appearance. “Yoongi-hyung! Hoseok said you were here, I was wondering where you were.”

Yoongi tears his eyes away from Namjoon’s hand where it holds Jungkook’s side and looks between the two of them. “I haven’t been here long,” he says unhelpfully. At this point, he’s just looking for ways to get out of this kitchen, this conversation in general, because Namjoon’s arm is _still_ around Jungkook and he doesn’t even seem fazed.

“Ah,” the taller man says, throwing a look at Jungkook. “I guess you’ve met Jungkook, my brother.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“He made me a drink,” Jungkook offers, like he’s trying to redeem Yoongi. Namjoon isn’t looking very approving. The man isn’t stupid; it’s not hard to notice the way that the two of them were looking at each other.

Say it isn’t so. Jungkook is Namjoon’s _brother_? Since when did Namjoon have any _siblings_?

“Yoongi is a good friend like that,” Namjoon says. He shoots Yoongi a pointed look for effect. The unspoken effect being “because you are a good friend, right? And good friends don’t fuck their other friends brothers, _right_?”

Yoongi doesn’t know what to say. What do you say to something like that, anyway? So he looks down at his cup and takes a satisfying gulp, savoring the bitterness.

An hour had passed since Yoongi arrived to the party and Hoseok was already arguing with someone Yoongi doesn’t know about doing keg stands, so he decided it was time to step out onto the balcony and have a smoke.

When he slides the door shut behind him, the loud madness of the party dulls into muffled vibrations and the sound of gentle traffic greets him. The air is much lighter and cooler out on the balcony and the view actually isn’t all that bad.

With a heavy sigh, Yoongi settles into a foldout chair that sits to the right of the glass doors in hopes that nobody will come out here for him since they won’t be able to see him from inside.

However, he’s hardly taken one inhale of his cigarette before someone opens it and steps out. The period of the time that the door is open, the noise inside becomes clear as day, before once again fading and being trapped inside the walls. When Yoongi looks up, he’s surprised to see Jungkook’s figure.

“Hey there,” Yoongi says, interested. He jumps and turns to him, apparently unaware that Yoongi was here.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t notice you,” he smiles a bit, looking sheepish. He’s got a massive coat on, where the sleeves surpass his fingertips and the bottom ends at his knees. Who gave this boy the right to look so adorable and mouthwatering at the same time? “Could I…?”

Jungkook points to the cigarette in Yoongi’s hand reluctantly, trailing off. He raises his brows in surprise. “You smoke?”

He doesn’t suppose there’s a concrete reason for him to assume Jungkook doesn’t, but it just seems out of whatever character Yoongi thinks is him.

Jungkook looks deflated now, rolling his eyes as he murmurs, “When my idiot brother is playing dad for the evening? Yeah, I smoke.”

Yoongi pulls a sympathetic face that says ‘jeez’ before handing it to him. Namjoon never struck him as that type of guy, or brother, but seeing him outside of work and quick coffee with their friends has him realizing the man is a little more protective than Yoongi thought.

Jungkook takes a long drag, eyelids slipping shut as he relishes the feeling. He pulls it from his lips and holds the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds and then lets it out slowly. True to his word, he doesn’t cough and splutter or anything. Namjoon must play dad a lot...

“That bad, huh?” He can’t help but tease the serene look on Jungkook’s face.

He smiles wryly and hands Yoongi the cigarette back, visibly more relaxed. “Yeah. Makes me wanna smoke around the clock again sometimes.”

Yoongi knows he shouldn’t be making this much conversation with Jungkook, but him being Namjoon’s brother doesn’t make Yoongi any less attracted to him. It just makes him aware that he _shouldn’t_. Yet here he is. “Again?”

Jungkook’s eyes drift over the roads and buildings and civilians, the twinkle of the lights installed on the building across from the balcony shining in his doe eyes. “I used to smoke regularly. But I quit a few years ago. It’s too expensive, so I only ever smoke when I’m stressed or after sex--” Jungkook immediately pauses, casting a panicked glance over at Yoongi.

Yoongi quirks a brow in unbridled intrigue, watching the blood in Jungkook’s cheeks come to the surface. “Shit, sorry-- I didn’t mean to _say_ that,” he squeaks helplessly, conveniently finding the view very interesting and turning to try and hide his face.

It’s simultaneously adorable and alluring, Yoongi observes. His mind, the traitor, paints images of Jungkook laid across his bed, sweaty and fucked out, sharing a cigarette with Yoongi after he’s buried himself between his legs.

Dammit, Yoongi truly isn’t one to be so helplessly drawn to anything besides music and his family. And here he is, weakly fantasizing about blush-worthy sex with a cute guy, who is also Namjoon’s brother, who he’s just met, and is only standing a few feet away.

(He vaguely registers that Jungkook must have quite a high tolerance to pick and choose when he smokes.)

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he says belatedly. The sweet names need to stop but he can’t help himself.

But, damn, the term is so worth it when Jungkook only seems to get more flustered, pulling his jacket tight around him and looking at his feet. Jungkook’s still fighting back a smile when he finally says something. “So, you work with Namjoon, right?”

At the sound of his brothers name, Yoongi steels himself once again. Right, _Namjoon_. “Yeah. He’s a good writer,” he confirms before raising his cigarette to his lips. A lame jolt shoots through him as he realizes that Jungkook’s lips had been there just moments ago.

“He is,” he agrees, nodding. “ _Unfairly_ smart.”

For whatever reason, Jungkook’s annoyed tone had Yoongi huffing a laugh. He felt that one. Namjoon just showed up one day and started working alongside Yoongi, didn’t even have to work his way up like Yoongi had. He’d been determined to hate the man, but once he spent some time with him, Yoongi realized with a slight frustration that he was _nice_ , and there was no good reason to hold a grudge against someone for no fault of their own.

“Yeah, pretty fucking smart,” Yoongi sighs with an oddly fond smile tugging at his lips that betrays the displeasure in his voice.

There’s a little moment of silence where Jungkook turns back to Yoongi, cheeks returned to their natural tone, and the two of them lock eyes. They stare at each other longer than what’s considered normal, and yeah, Yoongi thinks Jungkook’s really hot. And he really wants to suck bruises into his neck. And he’s Namjoon’s brother.

Cutting the moment short, a man with bright red hair yanks the sliding door open and thrusts his head out, trilling, “Kookie, the friend I told you about is here and he’s leaving soon so you better get your ass inside and come talk to him.”

It’s comical, the difference between the previous atmosphere and the one that this energetic man is dragging out here, but you can’t count on him to notice that with the way the party has reached it’s peak. Jungkook smiles--Yoongi thinks he looks just like a bunny--and rolls his eyes. “Okay, Tae, calm down. I’m coming,” he relents remarkably fast.

The red haired man doesn’t wait for Jungkook to follow him and spins back around, leaving the door open as he strides back into the apartment. Jungkook looks back at Yoongi with an apologetic smile and softly speaks, “That’s my cue.” There’s an awkward silence before Jungkook peers up at him and, somewhat shyly, adds, “I’ll, um, see you around?”

Something in his tone suggests that it means more than the casual departure, a practiced response. Like he’s asking for confirmation that the chemistry between the two of them isn’t all in his head. Yoongi’s kind of surprised and guiltily hopeful that it means Jungkook actually _want_ _s_ to see him again. “Absolutely,” he says, a little sweeter than what he was going for.

It seems to have a good effect, though, with the way Jungkook smiles and flushes, ducking his head out of sight as he steps inside.

As Yoongi takes the final drag of his cigarette, stubbing it out on the railing, he looks back at the door. Like he sensed it, Jungkook glances behind him and meets Yoongi’s eyes for a suggestive moment before he’s being led away by his friend.

It’s only fitting that Yoongi can’t get Jungkook out of his mind when he finally goes home at the respectable hour of two in the morning, replaying his sweet smiles and tempting lips stretched around the straw of his drink.

Of course he’s Namjoon’s brother. It’s just Yoongi’s luck.

After the awkward little encounter at Namjoon’s party, somehow, Yoongi and him seem to get a lot closer. It probably has something to do with the fact that they had a weird conversation a couple days after where Namjoon sternly told Yoongi that it was nothing against _him_ , but he didn’t want Yoongi fucking around with his little brother, and Yoongi had agreed.

“ _Promise me? Just not my brother, hyung,”_ he had said. His tone was casual, nothing heavy, just with the sound of “the code”. The code where you don’t fuck your friend’s parents, siblings, exes...

“ _...Yeah,”_ Yoongi said, because what were his options? He likes Namjoon, likes having him as a friend and having his respect. _“Of course.”_

A horrible decision, really, because he still thinks about Jungkook at the most random times and he feels like shit every time Namjoon does something nice for him. The man was purely pleased at Yoongi’s promise, patting him on the shoulder like an old man. And just like that, they seem to get along just fine.

And ever since the party, since meeting Jungkook, suddenly he’s everywhere. Yoongi didn’t even know Namjoon had a brother to begin with, and _now_ he’s mentioned left and right. It’s like the saying “a watched pot never boils” or whatever, except the pot nearly explodes because Yoongi looks at it so fucking hard.

The next time Yoongi sees the boy that’s been plaguing his thoughts, it’s purely by chance. He’s at his favorite coffee shop, tiny and quiet. It’s easily missed since the entrance is actually in an alley and it’s not very flashy. At the front of the alley, there’s a restaurant that sits on the main road is run by the same few people who run the coffee shop. The employees bounce between the two, the spaces being directly next to each other and all. People usually have to know about it to go inside.

So it makes _total_ sense that Jungkook just shows up one day, out of the blue. Yoongi’s sipping on his coffee and converting some sheet music for Namjoon, about 10 minutes from packing it up and just going to his apartment for a nap when he spots [Jungkook](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/3e/60/2d/3e602df106144a8ac5c1a274bd83a7ee.jpg). He’s just come in and finished ordering a coffee, standing next to the wall.

Yoongi can’t help but stare at him. He looks-- just-- good. Really good. Yoongi’s memory can’t compare. He examines the way his features look in the bright light at the front of the shop, the gentle curves and characteristics of Jungkook’s body. He’s sure that he’s never mused on one person this much before.

When the barista hands Jungkook the coffee he ordered, he smiles a little and nod a thanks. And then, all at once, he turns to the side to meet Yoongi’s eyes directly. His breath catches in the base of his throat, cheeks feeling rather hot, because he was clearly just staring at Jungkook like it was all he could do.

And then Jungkook smiles, surprised and pretty, before he walks over to him.

What does Yoongi even say? Should he say anything? Namjoon made him promise he wouldn’t pursue Jungkook… but then again, it’s just casual conversation, right? He can do casual. No problem.

“Hi, Yoongi,” Jungkook greets him, his tone sounding genuinely glad to see him. “Ah-- hyung, apparently. If you don’t mind.”

Right, okay. It’s fine. Just a-- _younger_ \--guy who Yoongi finds incredibly attractive even though he isn’t trying and all he has to do is pretend like he didn’t almost rub himself off on his mattress that night he met Jungkook before he went to sleep.

“Jungkook, hey,” he says back, clearing his throat and doing his best to shake himself from his thoughts. “You come here a lot?” Internally, he cringes a little. It sounds like a pickup line, but it isn’t. He just didn’t think a lot of people knew about this place.

Jungkook is sort of hovering next to his table like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to join Yoongi when he shrugs, “Sometimes, when I need a relaxing environment between classes.”

Yoongi nods in understanding, flicking his eyes down to Jungkook’s cup where it is cradled by his fingers, poking out of the sleeves. Before he can think better of it, he offers, “You can sit, if you want. I wouldn’t mind.” _By sit, I mean in my lap, you know, only if you wanted, cuz I think you’re like, really fucking hot..._

He really _should_ have thought better of it because now Jungkook is that much closer. He smells good, for what Yoongi can smell from his spot, and his skin is practically glowing with the changes from seasons. He wants to kiss Jungkook, oddly enough. It’s the most innocent thought he’s had about coming in contact with Jungkook’s body since he first met him.

Once Jungkook’s seated and sipping away at his coffee, the two of them fall into mindless company. It’s… kind of nice. Such a thing would normally bug him, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to push, and Yoongi likes that. He doesn’t even mind when he asks about what he’s working on.

Yoongi ends up explaining all about how he’s gotta do this for Jungkook’s brother, his time in college, how he come to be with the company he’s with. And Jungkook tells him that he’s yet to graduate, how he’s always wanted to learn how to play piano. Jungkook’s a graphic design major, Yoongi learns. Jungkook goes on to say it’s lame, but Yoongi disagrees.

“I could teach you,” he says, out of the blue from the silence. Jungkook’s momentarily confused and then he elaborates with, “The piano, I mean.”

Jungkook seems simultaneously flattered and excited by the idea, the apples of his cheeks dusting a sweet pink. He’s also hesitant at first with this tentative smile. “Really? You’d do that?” Yoongi’s unable to keep the grin from his face when he nods. “Wow, thank you, hyung. That—that’d be great.”

This is pretty much self-sabotage, but… Yoongi can’t help it.

Yoongi’s guilty conscience eats him up about offering the piano lessons to Jungkook because he feels like this is definitely past the line that Namjoon had drawn. Who knows? It’s obvious that there are going to be times where Jungkook will be in Yoongi’s presence and the two of them will have to function normally, of course. But what’s too far?

Maybe one-on-one piano lessons.

Yoongi asks Seokjin and Hoseok about it one day, while they’re all eating pizza at Jin’s flat. Because he’d rather _not_ have Namjoon hating him. He’s grown annoyingly fond of the man.

“So, I offered piano lessons to Namjoon’s brother and I feel like this might constitute as breaking the code,” he blurts in a moment of silence.

The reaction is instantaneous.

“I _knew_ you were eye-fucking him at that party,” Hoseok exclaims, proud of himself. “Man, you’re still on him, though?”

Yoongi shrugs like it’s no big deal. He’s actually surprised that Hoseok noticed anything that night, as drunk and distracted as he was. Seokjin calls him out. “Yoongi-ah, do you have his number?”

The way that the room falls silent and Yoongi picks at a thread on the rub beneath him speaks for itself. Like lightning, Hoseok is teasing him, crowing, “Wow, hyung, you really do have crush on him don’t you?”

“Fuck off,” he grumbles.

So maybe asking Hoseok and Seokjin was not the answer. Yoongi doesn’t know why he thought it was.

Over the sounds of the two men babbling, Seokjin finally seems to regain his composure and speak seriously from across the room. “No, really, Yoongi. You wanna ask Jungkook out or what?”

Well. That’s a question.

Yoongi hadn’t really considered dating Jungkook, as shallow as that may seem. Sure, he’s really cute and they get along really well and he’s easy to be around, but…

“Uh, I don’t think so?” He sighs and glances between his friends.

Hoseok is only so kind to incite further with a true brazen nature, “You want to fuck him, then?”

“Hoseok,” Jin screeches, leaning over to smack him square on the arm. The younger boy whines at that, clutching his arms and glaring and him. “That’s Namjoon’s brother, for Christ's sake. I do not want to think about that.”

It was only a few days after Namjoon’s party that Yoongi found out Seokjin had actually known Namjoon for longer than he thought, including Jungkook. Long enough to remember when Jungkook had his first serious boyfriend. The biggest thing that Yoongi took away from that was the fact that Jungkook was, in fact, into guys. It doesn’t help.

It kinda makes Yoongi feel like shit again, too, the reminder that the person he is lusting over is not supposed to be lusted over.

“Jeez, sorry! I’m just saying, he’s a really hot twink and it would make sense,” Hoseok defends, still rubbing soothing circles into his arm with a pout.

“What would make sense,” Yoongi asks. He’s pointedly ignoring the mans declaration that Jungkook is a hot twink.

When he’s finished glaring at the oldest, Hobi turns back to Yoongi and replies, “You liking him. He’s exactly your type, hyung.”

No shit. Yoongi thinks that’s pretty clear with the way he’s been feeling towards him. Asking his friends for advice was truly the worst mistake he’s ever made.

The deadpan look on Yoongi’s face is apparently enough for Seokjin to attempt being helpful again, because he advises, “I wouldn’t do it, Yoongi-ah. Namjoon would be livid if he found out you just wanted to _hook up_ with Jungkookie. He’s had some rotten relationships the past few years… hell, I might even have your head for it.” The way he says it suggests that he’s joking, but there’s some undertone that he also isn’t.

The tone of the oldest man’s voice prompts Hoseok to take thing seriously now, sincerely adding, “Yeah, I dunno, hyung. Namjoonie wouldn’t mind the piano thing, I don’t think. But Jungkook may not be the best rebound.”

Well. Yoongi never said anything about a rebound. His ex is the furthest thing from his mind anymore; he didn’t realize that is what’s going through their heads from this. He moved on, he’s already _had_ his rebounds: layers of meaningless sex with meaningless people. It’s almost been a whole year, and it _still_ seems like his friends refuse to accept that he’s over it.

The sour look on Yoongi’s face had Hoseok reeling himself in all too quick. “Shit-- I didn’t mean like that, sorry, hyung--”

“It’s cool. I’m just gonna go before I’m late for my project meeting,” he dismisses. He’s already packing up his things, annoyed.

Neither of his friends get to say much of anything more before he’s out of the door.

Yoongi works out the details of the lessons he plans on giving Jungkook over text. It’s safer that way, from a distance.

The best time that works for both of them is Thursdays, at two in the afternoon. Yoongi gave him the address of the building which his studio is in, and after Jungkook’s text of “thanks, it’s a date” followed by “i mean like a date as in just the day not an actual date” and finally “you know what I mean ok sorry”, then that was that.

And then Thursday rolls around. Yoongi isn’t really prepared. Sure, he’s spent years perfecting his skills on the piano, and he has no doubt he could teach someone over a period of time, but it’s not just someone. It’s Jeon Jungkook.

Yoongi’s phone mocked him from his dresser as he was getting dressed, the ringtone of his reminder that he had set. He didn’t really need to set that, since this was all he thought about all week.

[Yoongi](https://pm1.narvii.com/6269/e1858b622b93f2a3b9c01dda90cc5fa1ef1edf26_hq.jpg) waits outside of the front entrance once he finally gets to the building so Jungkook doesn’t show up and get lost or something. Yoongi had confirmed that he was coming only ten minutes ago, then got an annoying text from Hoseok, something about Yoongi’s “crush” and wished him good luck on the “piano lesson”. Yoongi shot out a simple, effective “fuck you” in response.

Yoongi’s just stubbing out his cigarette when he spots Jungkook walking up and stepping on the curb. And he feels like he might choke.

Because he’s [dressed](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/0f/c1/09/0fc10911a929b048e6d34688f7e9b188--bts-bulletproof-bts-got.jpg) really, _really_ nice, and sexy, and Yoongi is well and truly fucked.

“Hey,” the brunette breathes once he reaches Yoongi, smiling and clutching his phone in his hand.

Yoongi can’t seem to keep his eyes off of him. “Hey yourself. You look nice,” he comments helplessly.

Jungkook looks down at himself with blushing cheeks, like he’s embarrassed before his mind can even register what Yoongi was talking about. With a tiny smile, he stutters, “U-Um, thank you. I came from an interview and my roommates are kind of assholes. I was sexiled before I could change.”

Yoongi nods at that, but wonders what Jungkook was interviewing for because he thought he already had a job. However, he just says, “Let’s go inside, yeah?”

Jungkook follows him inside, trailing behind Yoongi in relative silence. He passes the reception without any qualms; he’s been working here for a little over two years and it’d be silly if he wasn’t recognized.

Yoongi leads Jungkook to the practice room, which is mercifully empty. It usually is during this time of day, but various members of the company sometimes use it at random or when the feeling strikes them since it’s open.

Jungkook leans forward so that he’s a little closer to him, because Yoongi’s currently still got the door open and there are offices adjacent to the room, and whispers, “Don’t you have a studio here?”

It takes a lot for Yoongi to fight the shudder that threatens him, the way Jungkook’s breath just barely reaches the side of his neck. Visibly tense, Yoongi swallows and finally shuts the door after turning on the lights, speaking at a normal volume, “Uh, yeah. But it’s better for you to learn on a real piano with weighted keys.” As he speaks, he leads Jungkook further into the room where the piano sits, catty-cornered. “I only have an electric keyboard in my studio. If you can play with weighted keys, then you can play any type of piano. Keyboards don’t transcend as well.”

_And_ he doesn’t think it’d be a good idea for the two of them to be in such a small room, alone. But.

“Makes sense,” he agrees, nodding at nothing in particular as Yoongi settles himself on the bench. Jungkook stands to the side of it with watchful eyes.

“So, you know what a chord is?” Yoongi looks up at him, fingers reflexively sitting on the keys even though he isn’t playing.

The pretty boy snorts, “Yeah, I know what a _chord_ is.”

Yoongi quirks a brow, amused, and challenges, “M’kay, Debussy. You know what letters they range from?”

Absentmindedly, Jungkook runs his tongue over his pink bottom lip and Yoongi is momentarily broken out of his comfort to watch the action in engrossment. “A through G.”

Yoongi considers him for a moment, and then turns back to the piano while he drawles, “Alright. Have a seat.”

He’d been initially nervous about this part, where Jungkook would have to sit next to him on the piano bench, and it isn’t hard to _ask_ him to do it. But then he actually _sit_ _s_ there, and the bench is only so big, so his thigh is against Yoongi’s and the sleeve of his sweater brushes Jungkook’s arm. He can feel the body warmth radiating off of the younger. If he focuses, Yoongi can smell it again-- the same sweet fragrance he wore the night the two of them met.

When Yoongi realizes he’s been holding his breath, he tries to play it off with clearing his throat. Right, piano. “Okay, first thing is your fingers,” he begins, stretching his hands out in front of him. Jungkook listens carefully, instinctively mimicking his movements and that’s just-- cute. “From your thumbs to your pinkies, your fingers are numbered one to five.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow in an unspoken question as he looks down at his fingers. Yoongi reaches over, pointing to his thumbs, “Like this, one, two, three, four, five.”

Apparently that wasn’t his question though, his words coming out quick, “ _Yeah_ , but why?”

Jungkook looks up at him curiously, and okay. He’s really close. Like, so close that Yoongi can make out the patterns of his round eyes. And his expression is far too pure for the way that Yoongi’s brain is working now. He shifts uncomfortably, trying to focus on teaching Jungkook the piano instead of teaching him other, less _innocent_ , activities. “When you read sheet music, it’s important to know which fingers it means for you to use when you play notes.”

Jungkook hums in understanding and watches as Yoongi once again lays his hands over the keys. “So, you already know what chords and notes are, and that they are A through G. That includes flats, minors, majors, and sharps,” he tells Jungkook. When Yoongi looks back at him, his eyebrows are raised, apparently a little winded by the unfamiliar terminology. He can’t help but smile for it and reassure the boy. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to play or memorize anything you’re not ready for.”

In hindsight, Yoongi thinks it may have been better to type up some simple stuff for Jungkook to look at and study before actually bringing him here, hands-on. But it’s too late for that now. It may take longer, but it will work just the same.

Yoongi goes on to teach Jungkook the most basic notes, having him play them alongside Yoongi as he names them. It takes a while, but Jungkook makes decent progress. Yoongi’s oddly pleased with it, deciding to move on for now. Yoongi asks him which note is C, and he instantly presses his pointer finger on it, which is kind of adorable even though he’s just doing what Yoongi asked.

“That’s right,” he says casually, but he doesn’t miss the way Jungkook smiles.

Yoongi starts from C and slowly teaches him Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, which he’s surprisingly quick to catch on to. Jungkook’s got the tempo of a piano player, which is good. Memorizing the notes seems to be the challenge for him, with the way he keeps accidentally playing F after A. But that’s okay. Studying is something that most people can do if they’re put to it, but not everyone has the instinct for the piano.

“You’re a natural, sweetheart,” he murmurs. It’s kind of a cheesy thing to say, but he does mean it.

Jungkook nearly beams, completely shy and completely excited all at once. His eyes drop back to the piano for a moment. His teeth grasp the skin of his lip and tug at it as he smiles, and Yoongi suddenly has tunnel vision to the action, to the way that the soft flesh eventually slips away with a newfound color.

He thinks about what it would feel like to bite it himself or to feel Jungkook, pressed against him, maybe whining for Yoongi to touch him. And he could press him down a little, suck bruises into the column of his throat, maybe.

“Hyung,” Jungkook calls, tone confused and questioning.

The speed that Yoongi looks away from Jungkook is almost comical, like the sight had burnt him. And it kind of did, his cheeks scorching in a sickening mix of arousal and embarrassment.

Fucking hell, Jungkook was just biting his lip and Yoongi got _that_ carried away. His imagination is out to get him, that’s for sure. He has to take a mental breather so he can respond.

_Grandma in a bikini, Jin’s hyena laughter, broken recording equipment…_

“Yeah, sorry, just uh… zoned out for a second,” he stammers awkwardly. “What did you say?”

Yoongi doesn’t dare look at Jungkook, instead just stares down at the keys. But he can hear the amusement, maybe even giddiness when he replies, “I just said thank you. And that I like it.”

He--

_Right_ , Yoongi’s just worked himself up. He’s taken the words for a different meaning. Jungkook likes the _piano_.

“Ah, that’s—good,” he manages. Jesus, Yoongi feels like he’s going to choke with embarrassment. The only thing that’s worse is that Jungkook isn’t even really doing anything, unaware of why Yoongi’s made himself flustered.

“Could you play something before I have to go?”

With a thick swallow, Yoongi gathers the courage to look back at the boy sitting next to him. He’s looking hopeful, almost childlike, and it only makes Yoongi feel more guilty for his thoughts. “Yeah, sure,” he accepts, voice tight.

Jungkook slides himself off the bench so that Yoongi can have the entirety of the piano to himself. His emotional body suddenly separates into two pieces; one that is very relieved that Jungkook isn’t so close, and the other that misses it dearly.

“Any suggestions,” Yoongi asks, feeling a little less dazed now that Jungkook’s a normal distance away.

He contemplates it for a second, and then peeps hopefully, “Maybe the Moonlight Sonata?”

Yoongi can’t help but be surprised. “A fan of classical music?” He looks at Jungkook with his brows raised. Yoongi doesn’t know what he was expecting, and it wasn’t for Justin Bieber some shit, but, he just didn’t foresee him suggesting such a specific piece. Jungkook just shrugs, smiling and picking at his sleeve. “Well, I think I can do that.”

Truthfully, it’s very simple, and Yoongi still remembers from when he had to memorize it for music theory. He begins to play from what he remembers, the few somber notes of the intro ringing out low and quiet. “The 17th symphony is a really important piece of music for it’s time,” he remarks idly over the music, mostly just talking to himself.

After a minute, it becomes muscle memory, his fingers finding the keys before his brain has to really think about them. He sort of forgets that Jungkook is there and that he isn’t alone, the piece of him that is everything musical taking up all the space in his head for the moment.

Yoongi startles when his alarm goes off, his phone sitting on top of the piano vibrating obnoxiously. Session over. He had only been playing for a few minutes, but that whole piece is over 17 minutes long so it was bound to go off sometime.

His fingers fall away from the keys but his foot stays pressed to the petal, making them linger as he reaches up and turns the ringing off.

“Well--”

“That was amazing,” Jungkook suddenly blurts. Yoongi looks back over to him, and he looks like he’s in utter awe of him. It gets to Yoongi.

He’s used to people complimenting his piano skills, but the way Jungkook is looking at him crawls into his chest and sends his heart booming. “Thanks,” he croaks lamely. “Uh, that alarm was for three-thirty, so. That’s all for today.”

Jungkook nods in understanding and sends him another smile before he grabs his bag off the floor, haphazardly checking his phone. “Next Thursday, right?”

Yoongi sighs internally. “Unless something unexpected comes up, yeah. Next Thursday.”

He’s truly trying to murder himself, isn’t he?

A few weeks pass and they get progressively more smooth with every piano lesson Yoongi gives Jungkook. He still has these urges, but it’s easier to control and hide as the two of them get more familiar.

It gets harder to _not_ think about when he’s _without_ Jungkook, though.

Yoongi’s laying awake, unable to sleep because once again, those goddamn tattoo artists above his apartment are going at it again. He doesn’t know why they can’t, for _once_ , have some relatively quiet sex. It’s not like the walls are super thin; Yoongi can never hear these things from his other neighbors.

Groaning, Yoongi rolls over and sloppily reaches for his phone off his nightstand. He’s planning on listening to music, but some missed texts have him pausing.

(10:03 PM.) Hoseok – hyung are u still awake

(10:15 PM.) Hoseok – hello

(10:16 PM.) Hoseok – if u are asleep then wake up we’re at the club

(10:26 PM.) Hoseok – u know u want to join us

Well. Four texts in the span of 23 minutes. That’s not winding.

Hoseok isn’t completely accurate in his assumption but--

Yoongi can’t sleep. His neighbors are fucking their couch across their apartment. He probably wouldn’t be able to drift off if it was silent. He checks his work schedule and he doesn’t have to be in until two.

So Yoongi sends a quick “omw” and nothing more. And then he gets up, throws on a sloppy [outfit](https://66.media.tumblr.com/5e62254737c0bc5d2d3eb0db3b5d1e29/tumblr_p26qchVBXh1wayz9yo4_250.jpg). He’s fine with it.

By the time Yoongi gets to the club, it’s almost eleven and he’s in awe as to why he actually came. Sure, parties here and there aren’t so bad. But this kind of shit is something he tried to stop doing before he graduated. Besides, he doesn’t have as much steam to blow off as he did when he was still in college and stressing.

But then he sees [Jungkook](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/Eaqkg534PUfkV6EiJXKJMHEmknr_SbP7QHkJBEqYXJ6IJtMOjEwIBm952YM0VXQh8K8LkJkVGy40-5sV_1oCUNw12AoTaKzicA=w1600-rj) sitting in the booth as he approaches it, looking like Yoongi’s obituary, and he figures, yes. He _could_ use a drink.

“Hyung!” A cheerful voice calls to him. It’s Hoseok, beaming with a margarita in his hand, the lime still jammed on the rim. He has the gall to look giddy when he failed to inform Yoongi that they invited Jungkook.

Yoongi’s standing in the entrance of their booth, but Hoseok still feels the need to shout, which isn’t all that surprising. Yoongi doesn’t get the chance to say anything, because next to him, a waitress leans in. She holds out a tray with a few drinks on it and smoothly inquires, “Can I help anyone with a drink?”

When Yoongi glances back at Jungkook, he’s wearing this pretty, subtle makeup, and holy shit _leather pants_ and Yoongi just--

“What is that? Whiskey sour?” He looks down at the drink impatiently.

“Actually, that’s scotch--”

She doesn’t get to finish because Yoongi is already swiping it from the tray and taking an unreasonable gulp. It’s kind of gross because Yoongi doesn’t drink it neat, he usually drinks it on the rocks, and he prefers whiskey altogether, but the way it warms his insides as it goes down is worth it.

Yoongi doesn’t pay attention to Seokjin as the boy requests a drink from the waitress and proceeds to slip away from the booth. He comes to sit down, leaving enough space between Jungkook and him that a whole other person could sit there. Magnolia by Playboi Carti blares overhead, the shitty lighting within their booth pulsing every so often. It’s a familiar scene, but he’s hyper aware of Jungkook’s presence.

“I didn’t take you for a scotch neat kind of guy,” Jungkook’s voice comes. Yoongi looks up and regrets it immediately.

He look amazing up close, he can’t express it. Yoongi just _wants_.

Yoongi looks down at Jungkook’s drink, some sort of cloudy cocktail. Quirking a brow, he muses, “And I took you for a pink lemonade kind of guy.”

Despite Jungkook’s slight shyness, he smiles and looks down at it. Seokjin yells some greeting to some guys he knows suddenly, standing and striding over to them in true popular nature. “Gimlet,” Jungkook supplies.

Yoongi hums in acknowledgment. “Never tried it.”

The intro to Wake Up In the Sky vibrates through the speakers loudly and Jungkook has to raise his voice as he offers, “Want to?”

He’s holding the drink out to Yoongi already, questioning and inviting. He’s not sure a sip from whatever that is not a very good idea because he _just_ gulped down scotch neat, but. Jungkook looks like it’d please him, like how Yoongi had when he had offered him his own drink the first time they met. He laughs to himself; ironic.

Wordlessly, Yoongi takes the glass from him and gives it a sniff—wow – and proceeds to take a mild sip. Though, _mild_ is not a way to describe what he just drank. It’s got a sweet undertone, but damn is it strong. “Jesus, how much of that is alcohol,” he asks as he hands it back to Jungkook, a sour look on his face.

Jungkook giggles and-- that’s a nice sound. “I think it’s like two parts gin.”

Just then, a man from the booth behind theirs leans over the top of the border, right next to Jungkook. The man is very obviously drunk, and very obviously interested in him. “Hello there, cutie,” he slurs.

It’s uncomfortable.

“Um, hi,” Jungkook replies awkwardly, a whole different person than the one Yoongi was just having a conversation with.

“You _are_ just the cutest, you know that?” The man hands over the edge more, trying to get a better look of Jungkook’s face. Yoongi’s gut clenches. Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a few moments and the stranger continues, “You want to come have a dance with me?”

Maybe if the man wasn’t so drunk, it wouldn’t be so sleazy. But he is, and even though he’s reasonably attractive, he’s not picking up on Jungkook’s lack of response.

“Or you could come sit with me,” he pushes, head lulling. “I’d love to have a pretty doll like you on my lap, hm?”

Yoongi wants to leave this booth, this building, this goddamn city so bad it hurts. Anywhere but in the middle of this interaction. He could honest-to-god swing a good one at this bastard.

But he glances at Jungkook, and he seems like he might beat him to it. He meets Yoongi’s eyes, and even though he’s blushing furiously and he looks understandably pissed off, Jungkook also looks pleading. Yoongi didn’t know if he was supposed to say something, because it’s not his right, he doesn’t _own_ Jungkook and he’s justified to deal with it his own way.

The look in Jungkook’s eyes is all he needs.

“Hey, man, I don’t think he’s interested,” Yoongi tries to say politely. He knows that this is not a situation to get his emotions involved in; he’s been through that too many times to _not_ know better.

Suddenly the man is eyeing Yoongi, annoyed. “Can’t he speak for himself? You’re not his boyfriend or anything, yeah?”

Yoongi catches the sight of Jungkook tonguing his cheek and he tries to tell the stranger to back off again but the younger boy is faster. “ _Yes_ , he is, actually. So just fuck off. It’s not gonna happen, asshole,” he snaps.

Well.

Considering that the only thing the man had heard from Jungkook was a meek hello, that was surely a shock for him. It seems to do the trick because he scoffs and slides away from the top of the booth with curses under his breath.

Yoongi doesn’t know what to think. He hasn’t even seen Jungkook _mad_ before this. Not to mention the fact that he claimed Yoongi to be his boyfriend.

“Sorry,” he mutters, somehow reading Yoongi’s thoughts or something. “I just didn’t know what else to say.”

“Don’t apologize,” Yoongi says, feeling bad about the situation. Relatively, Yoongi looks pretty uninviting, or so his friends have told him. He doesn’t usually deal with a lot of that.

Jungkook’s looking rather solemn now and Yoongi _really_ doesn’t like that. Two emotions that he’s never seen on him before and they’re both so negative-- Yoongi can’t blame him. But he doesn’t want some drunk fucker to ruin Jungkook’s mood because he doesn’t matter enough for that.

“Hey, what can I do for you, darling,” Yoongi murmurs. He tries not to be condescending or overly sympathetic because he has a feeling that won’t do any good for him. Thankfully, Jungkook does smile, a little wryly.

“I don’t know, honestly. I hate dealing with drunks like that. Just keep calling me darling and stay next to me,” he sighs, grinning full-on now.

_Okay_ , so, once he’s got a little alcohol in his system, Jungkook’s definitely a little less guarded.

All of it has Yoongi’s heart flipping and flopping in his chest. And he knows he _shouldn’t_ but he’s so weak when it comes to this boy sitting beside him. Yoongi’s also a little confused; one part of him wonders if Jungkook’s speaking freely, like maybe these are things he thinks but doesn’t admit, and the other wonders if he just gets flirty when the drinks catch up to him and it doesn’t amount to mean anything.

Yoongi suddenly decides that it doesn’t matter. He wants to indulge Jungkook, because he deserves it.

“Whatever you say, _darling_ ,” he taunts. He watches as Jungkook’s eyes flash with something that Yoongi can’t name, can only describe as dark, and he does that thing again-- bites his lip in the stretch of his smile.

Yoongi is not an _idiot_. He may be ridiculously attracted to Jungkook, but he can still tell when it’s being thrown back at him.

Still, Yoongi supposes that has nothing to do with it, since he’s not supposed to be sitting here and calling Jungkook darling and thinking about fucking him silly at _all_. But he is. And it does.

Hoseok chooses that moment to come bouncing in the booth, a little sweaty, a lot excited. “Kookie,” he breathes, almost a coo. “Do you wanna come dance?”

Jungkook scrunches his nose in disinterest, which Yoongi finds _devastating_ , and shakes his head. Hoseok’s not giving up so easy, though. “Please? It’ll be fun, c’mon,” he whines.

It has the desired effect, Jungkook’s lips pursing as he considers it. His eyes fall back on Yoongi, and it’s a mischievous smile that rises to Jungkook’s face. “If Yoongi-hyung comes, then fine.”

He’s really trying to start trouble tonight. Yoongi suddenly wishes Namjoon was here so neither of them would feel so tempted.

But he’s not. And Yoongi, once again, is a very weak man.

Tossing back more scotch, he stands and hisses from the taste, looking back at Jungkook when he’s done. “Come on then.”

Jungkook’s surprised Yoongi had agreed, that’s for sure. Called out on his excuse to not go dance, Jungkook has no choice but to go with it now.

By the time that the three of them reach the dance floor, they’re catching the tail end of the last song and it’s fairly crowded. The dim and flashing lights are designed to make it feel like a dream, an escape from reality. They highlight the most important features on the bodies of the crowd and make them faceless all at once.

It’s easy to follow Hoseok into the thick of it, for Yoongi to grab at Jungkook’s hand so he doesn’t slip away somehow.

Guantanamera starts playing once they find a reasonable spot in the masses, and Yoongi can’t help but wonder what goes on with the DJ tonight.

Hoseok tugs Jungkook forward and Yoongi settles in the gap, creating a circle of sorts. It’s instinct, because Yoongi has been on the actual dance floor maybe once before. But Jungkook’s not any better, as hesitant as he is. Hoseok seems to sense it, the true clubbing man that he is.

“I don’t know about this,” Jungkook suddenly shouts over the loud music, deadpan. He lean close to Yoongi when a waitress passes him, hoisting a tray up above moving bodies. Instinctively, Yoongi’s arm curls around him. Jungkook doesn’t move away once she’s gone.

“Let’s do this,” Hoseok says. He holds his hand out for Jungkook to take, and after a skeptical pause, he accepts. With his hand in Jungkook’s, Hoseok maneuvers him to turn around so that Jungkook is facing Yoongi and his back is nearly pressed into Hoseok’s chest.

Hoseok waves his hand quickly, motioning for Yoongi to come forward. He does. He gets the idea, of sandwiching Jungkook between the two of them so that they can guide each other’s movements. It’s smart, but Hoseok is definitely overestimating Yoongi’s dancing skills.

When Yoongi meets the younger boy’s eyes, there’s a distinct glint of playfulness in them. In a moment of horror, he realizes that Hoseok is doing this on purpose, putting Jungkook and Yoongi in this situation knowingly.

But he’s in too deep to decide to lose it now.

As soon as his hands come to rest on Jungkook’s hips, he knows he made the right decision. It feels… _good_. Right. As a whole, this is very wrong, because he promised Namjoon, and even if he didn’t, it’s still his brother but _god_. It just feels too good to touch Jungkook.

It seems like the other boy agrees, if the way his body almost melts, falling back into Hoseok more and pulling Yoongi close, is anything to go by. The song fades off in the speakers above to something by Bryson Tiller. It’s something much more smooth, sensual. It makes it easier to dance to, so maybe the universe doesn’t _totally_ hate Yoongi.

Jungkook’s shyness seems to slowly dissipate as Yoongi and Hoseok begin to move. It’s easy, getting lost, forgetting, losing baggage. It’s a different world. Surrounded by bodies on all sides, soft neon lights falling atop of everyone, the music absolutely blaring, it’s nature to let it consume you, if not for just a moment.

Jungkook seems hesitant to touch Yoongi, though, like he’s not sure if he should. Yoongi decides he needs to fix that. Momentarily retracting his hands from that sinful waist of his, he guides Jungkook’s own to his shoulders. Jungkook glances up curiously, looking like a fucking _dream_. His hands slide up and around Yoongi’s neck like a puzzle piece, causing Yoongi to step forward again.

He has to slightly slot a leg between Jungkook’s so he can fit in close. Hoseok’s hands fall away from Jungkook’s arms since they’re now occupied, and if Yoongi’s telling the truth, he forgot that the boy was even there.

Upon observing how well the two of them are starting to physically get along, Hoseok grins, evil and meddling. “I’m gonna go find Seokjin. Go crazy,” he yells over the music. Yoongi at least has the decency to scowl at him as he steps away, though he isn’t very convincing with his body rolling in with Jungkook.

The song has changed by now, but it’s not so important as the two of them become wrapped up in each other. People behind him keep bumping into his body but Yoongi can’t bring himself to care as he picks up that distinct smell that is Jungkook. It’s familiar by now, and no less bewitching. Jungkook’s body moves like a _snake_. His apprehension gave Yoongi the impression that he was not a good dancer, or at least not confident in it. It must have been an act because Jungkook _knows_ how to move.

When he finally tilts his head upwards and meets Yoongi’s eyes for the first time in a while, Yoongi’s breath hitches and his hands reflexively tighten around his waist. He knows the look of desire when he sees it, and holy shit does it look good on Jungkook. He wants to positively _ruin_ him.

Jungkook bites his lip, the look on his flawless face just then enough to make a stripper blush, Yoongi thinks. And really, he just said that he wasn’t sure about this, but he’s moving like the _devil_ now. Yoongi’s sweating from the dancing, from his heart beating too quickly, from the adrenaline and the warmth of Jungkook on him.

Yoongi doesn’t know who moves first, but suddenly the two of them are crashing into each other, lips meeting in a searing kiss. It’s not gentle. It’s hard and it has very obvious intentions.

Those feathery lips on his is enough to rip a _growl_ from Yoongi’s throat, arms stretching and pulling the younger impossibly closer. In no time, he’s poking his tongue out, and Jungkook isn’t shy now, opening up for it lewdly. Yoongi doesn’t hear Jungkook’s moan over the music, but he feels the vibration of it as it spills into his mouth.

Yoongi’s hands start to desire more and slip a little farther down, not quite on Jungkook’s ass. But then, surprising Yoongi, his back _arches_ from the touch when it stops. Pulling back for air, Yoongi catches sight of his blushing cheeks. Jungkook was _really_ something else, moving his body like he was made for it and then having the gall to blush.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea how bad I’ve been wanting to touch you,” he pants into Jungkook’s ear in a moment of honesty. Yoongi’s sense is out of the window, much too weak for the recent events.

His admission draws a soft sound from the boy under his hands, one that Yoongi only hears because of the close proximity. He’s about to pull Jungkook’s thick thigh into his crotch to show him just how fucking _hard_ he’s gotten when a touch on his shoulder startles both of them.

It’s Seokjin, looking guilty. “Hey, sorry to… _interrupt_ , but Jimin said your mom has been calling you, Jungkook. And he said Namjoon’s upset about something,” he explains.

A look up pure worry spreads across Jungkook’s face at Seokjin’s information, something like realization in there too. “Okay, I’m coming. Thanks, hyung,” he nods at the man quickly and Jin takes that as a cue to go back to the booth. Then Jungkook looks up at Yoongi, and he’s so apologetic it makes Yoongi want to coo on the spot. “I’m sorry, but it’s important--”  
  


“What did I say earlier,” he interrupts, leaning in close. “Don’t apologize. Go, take care of whatever it is that needs taking care of,” he says encouragingly. It’s amazing to him how tentative he becomes when Jungkook is involved.

The other boy spares him a long look. _“_ _Sorry you didn’t get to fucking plow me”_ seems a tad too vulgar given the circumstances, so he just nods in acceptance of Yoongi’s acceptance. Jungkook slips off into the crowd and eventually out of sight as Yoongi stays rooted to his spot.

Yoongi can still taste him on his lips when he rubs one out, fast and messy in the bathroom.

Yoongi had ended up crashing on Hoseok’s couch the night—or morning – they came back, because Hoseok was fucking wasted when the time came to call it, so Yoongi had to make sure he didn’t walk himself into the subway tracks or something ridiculous.

He wondered as he laid awake, the annoying hum of Hoseok’s refrigerator buzzing through the apartment, what happened with Jungkook. He found himself, oddly, hoping that he was okay. Sure, Yoongi isn’t heartless, but…

After the way his last relationship had crashed and burned, Yoongi made sure to not include his feelings with the random people he found sexual release in. Not that he had many attachments to avoid in the first place.

And there he was, thinking about Jungkook’s panicked expression when Seokjin had said that, thought about calling him in the morning, even.

When morning does come around, Yoongi feels sluggish. He can’t have slept for longer than four hours, but he’s sort of used to this feeling. He once had it frequently, and the familiar haze is almost comforting.

Maybe he just partied too hard in college.

Yoongi makes himself busy in Hoseok’s apartment, finding the aspirin with ease and setting it on Hoseok’s nightstand with a bottle of water. Yoongi takes one for good measure. He does have to work later today. Fuck his liver.

He decides to let the drooling boy sleep a few more hours, because he needs it, and grabs his phone and his wallet before heading out to the food place across the street. Yoongi ends up checking his phone as he walks, but there’s nothing new from Namjoon or Jungkook and he can’t believe he’s thinking it about it this much. Since when has Yoongi worried about anyone’s personal details like this? Well, he knows when the last time was, but… the thought has him fighting nausea.

The little restaurant across from Hoseok’s place is cute and simple enough, run by a broke med student and his aunt, as well as her husband from time to time. So it’s easy to order some breakfast takeout and coffee. The elderly woman grins, sweet and grateful, before thanking him. The wholesome interaction instantly has him feeling lighter.

Or maybe the aspirin is kicking in.

When Yoongi makes it back up to the apartment, he opens the door and can hear the sounds of Hoseok hurling in the bathroom. He grimaces in sympathy as he sets the food on the table.

Eventually, the sounds of retching cease and the sound of the pipes supplying water comes as the man in the other room flushes the toilet. Hoseok practically slugs his way into the kitchen. His hair is reaching for the sky and his skin looks like it might be dead but honestly, he’s been worse.

“Morning, sunshine,” Yoongi greets cheerfully, unable to resist tugging at his strings at least a little bit.

Hoseok doesn’t even look up, just groans and stares at the things Yoongi brought. “This for me?”

Yoongi snorts, “No, it’s for your bed bugs. Since when do I fail on hangover care?

This manages to pull a little smile onto Hoseok’s face. It’s tradition to come bearing food, coffee, the occasional _harder_ drug if perhaps someone needed to be somewhere sometime soon… It’s nice. Even though he’s not quite great with his relationships, Yoongi finds a home away from Daegu to remain stable.

The two of them go on to drink coffee and Hoseok eventually works himself up to eating something. Once it stays down, he finally takes aspirin and things start looking up for him. Yoongi’s gotta get home and have a shower eventually, sending Hoseok a farewell and a good luck. When he’s out of the apartment, he sighs with gratitude that the younger man was too sickly to prod about what happened with Jungkook on the dance floor.

Yoongi doesn’t really know what to _do_ about it.

It was simultaneously the best and worst thing to happen. He wants more, but he knows, fuck, he _knows_ he shouldn’t. He truly slipped up last night. And now that he’s had the smallest of tastes, of the hint that Jungkook might actually want him back, he finds it hard to believe that he’d ever refuse an opportunity, should it come to him.

Properly speaking to Jungkook about it and telling him that Yoongi doesn’t want that to be _all_ that happens between them-- it somehow seems like he’s deliberately crossing so many lines. The promise he made to Namjoon, the intimacy, his unidentified feelings. It’s all in the red. He doesn’t want to go into the red.

So Yoongi showers, and he gets dressed, and he goes to work. What else can he do? Worry about his _feelings_? Yeah, _that_ sounds like Yoongi.

(Yeah, that does sound like Yoongi.)

Yoongi’s barely ended a session with one of his lesser-favorite artists when his phone rings. He almost denies it, on reflex, but then Jungkook’s name is glaring at him on the screen. His heart lurches, which is so fucking lame because _come on Yoongi quit acting like a teenager who’s never met a_ _cute guy_ _before._

He answers the call in the now-empty studio with intrigue. “Hello?”

The lack of a pet name is obvious, sitting in Yoongi’s stomach uncomfortably. But what if it was Namjoon calling him from Jungkook’s phone? Or Jungkook calling to tell him last night was a fucked up mistake?

Thankfully, it’s just Jungkook in all his sweet existence. “Hey, Yoongi-hyung, are you busy?”

There’s lots of noise on Jungkook’s end, like he’s on the street or something. Yoongi thinks about it-- he does have to fill out some paperwork, but… “Not terribly. What’s up?”

“I was just wondering if we could get coffee or some food if you haven’t eaten,” he says, the grin in his voice obvious. Then he’s suddenly stuttering out, flustered, “I-I mean, just, like, casual. Not that I _don’t_ want-- I mean, Jesus Christ.”

Yoongi’s full on cackling by the time Jungkook is done, something warm and comfortable blooming in his chest. How _relieving_ it is to be on the same level as someone for once. “Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, smiling so hard his cheeks are going to start aching soon. “I get it, sweetheart. But, unfortunately, I really shouldn’t leave my studio when my hours say I’m in.”

It’s the worst, because coffee sounds amazing, and Jungkook sounds almost as great (maybe a little more) but he can’t afford losing any possible clients.

“Oh, okay,” he says, and Jungkook sounds so understanding that Yoongi’s sure he could stop himself from feeling bad about it if he tried. “I could… bring it to you, if you wanted? If you’re not too busy,” he adds the last part quickly. A car horn sounds on his end of the phone.

It’s embarrassing how appealing the idea is. But who is worse, Yoongi or Jungkook? Hell, it’s nearly 7 at night and both of them are craving coffee. Or maybe they’re just craving each other. Maybe both. “That sounds great, darling. I don’t have any sessions scheduled for the rest of the day.”

Yoongi’s already eaten and so has Jungkook, so when does show up, he really is just baring coffee. Yoongi informed the secretary of his arrival, so Jungkook comes straight to his studio without trouble. Although, it takes a little longer than it should and Yoongi has the suspicion that the boy probably got a little lost.

Yoongi opens the door up when Jungkook knocks and Jungkook sends him such a sweet smile with his thanks. Setting the coffee down, he looks around for several long moments. Jungkook comments on Yoongi’s studio, something about never being in it before and how nice it is.

Yoongi hardly listens because he’s focused on how absolutely soft Jungkook looks tonight. He’s got these over-sized [clothes](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c6/b6/99/c6b699b0ada04544ca8d96dd1f431061.jpg) on, which _should_ appear more sloppy with how tired he looks, but it’s just… horribly cute. And kinda crazy, because Yoongi’s never made out with someone as passionately as he did with Jungkook on one hand, and then on the other, have them show up looking like they were just lounging around lazily.

“Sorry if I bothered you, coming here. I felt bad about taking off last night,” Jungkook apologizes softly, sitting down on Yoongi’s sofa that sits against the wall. His voice is a little scratchy, Yoongi can hear it distinctly now. He thought it was just the crackle of the phone before.

Yoongi sends him a glare and joins him, taking his cup in his hands. The warmth against his palms is relaxing. “My god, kid, how many times am I going to have to tell you to stop apologizing to me?”

Jungkook laughs, genuine and unguarded. “Sorry-- _ah_ , fuck--! I can’t,” he squeaks, shaking in giggles, and Yoongi doesn’t even realize he’s grinning along with him. Jungkook eventually calms himself, sighing, “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I didn’t sleep last night, so I’m a little delirious, I guess.”

Yoongi hums in understanding, curious as to why, but he doesn’t mind it. These moments are good, even if he’s not sure what he feels for Jungkook, if it extends _beyond_ wanting to fuck him stupid. If it doesn’t, he still enjoys when the boy stops being so reserved and so guarded, like anything could be used against him. Like last night, before and during the dance floor. The way Jungkook initiated conversation, the way he actually got angry for once, the way he asked—no, told Yoongi to spend time with him and keep calling him darling, the way he forgot that he was supposed to be holding up some sort of impenetrable wall when Yoongi was dancing with him.

“You didn’t sleep at all,” he questions, looking up at Jungkook. Yoongi guessed he was tired, he could see it in his face and hear it in his voice.

Jungkook sighs again, but this time it’s less energetic. “Nope. Even if I had time to lay down, I probably wouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

Yoongi’s done it before; not sleeping all night. He’s done it many times. And he hates the feeling every time.

“Does this have something to do with Jin coming and getting you?” Now, that feels like a step. Interest in Jungkook’s personal life beyond the standard info. He just can’t help it. He figures if he wants to ask the question so badly then he might as well, so that it puts him wherever he wants to be with Jungkook. He just doesn’t know where that _is_ yet.

Jungkook looks hesitant, nearly cringing as he apparently recalls whatever it is Yoongi’s referring to. “...Yeah,” he murmurs. And Yoongi thinks that’s all he’s going to say, and that’s completely fine. It’s enough to have him here and being comfortable with him. But then he continues, “My mom was upset and my dad-- I don’t know. It’s all fucked, honestly.”

Yoongi nods, sipping his coffee. He’s a good listener, that much he knows. He may not always have great advice or pick up on the occasional emotional cues, but he listens. And he understands. And if he does judge, he knows it is almost always unbiased. So Yoongi ventures that much farther with, “You know, if you want to talk about it, I don’t mind.”

Jungkook looks at him for a long moment, then. Now it’s his turn to make a decision. He could just brush Yoongi off, tell him it’s fine and act like he was offering for the politeness of it. Or he could confide.

Jungkook confides.

He tells Yoongi about his parents fighting horribly, and he tells him about how Jungkook had to comfort his mom from it, and he tells him about some of the things his mother was saying. How Namjoon is pissed at him for not wanting to fix it, but Jungkook doesn’t think it’s supposed to be fixed.

Yoongi thinks it must be hard to be the little brother of Namjoon. He has no doubt the man doesn’t hesitate to take care of him when he needs it, but it’s just… Namjoon. Very smart, thoughtful, talented, driven Namjoon. The kind of person who stresses himself to death over trying to figure out how their parents are going to solve these problems. Because Jungkook’s the type of person to say that it isn’t a problem, that it’s just what they feel and that it can’t _always_ be helped.

“I don’t think my mom ever felt crazy over my dad, even at their best,” Jungkook goes on to say eventually, calm and tired. “Namjoon keeps asking me what’s going to happen if it doesn’t work out, like I’m supposed to suddenly get involved. But if it doesn’t work out, it just _doesn’t_ work out.”

Surely there’s more to it than that, Yoongi thinks. He’s never heard someone who is supposedly close to their parents sound detached like that. Something tells him that there’s more history, but he doesn’t dare press it. He’s here to listen.

When Jungkook looks up at him, he meets his eyes and gives Yoongi a little smile that has the _smallest_ of weakness in it. Yoongi wonders how many times he must have run through these type of things to be keeping his head.

Yoongi doesn’t even realize he’s moving before he tugs Jungkook into a hug, leaning towards him on the sofa. Jungkook freezes for a second and then nervously return it with a soft, “Thanks.”

It’s by far the most intimate, non-sexual moment they have shared and Yoongi finds himself not hating it. When he finally pulls back, Jungkook’s grin is starting to reach his eyes. There’s a pause, where the two of them sit in close proximity, and Yoongi _really_ wants to kiss him.

Something tells him Jungkook’s thinking the same thing, but he isn’t sure. So many signs that have popped up tonight encourage him that this is, in fact, not too far. Jungkook brought him coffee, he’s dressed like he doesn’t mind it, he talked more in one sitting tonight than Yoongi has ever heard the past times he’s seen the boy, and about something personal at that.

It feels right. “Can I kiss you?”

Certainly a first for Yoongi; asking so kindly to kiss someone. He’s never been one to mind taking what he wants, but. Maybe, fuck, just _maybe_ , he might like Jungkook a _teeny tiny_ bit more than what he thought. He likes the swearing, and the way he means everything he says, his bunny smiles, the way he doesn’t expect big things from Yoongi, how he looks when he’s talking about his art.

And when Jungkook nods, meets Yoongi in this soft, slow kiss that doesn’t need to _lead_ to anything, Yoongi thinks maybe Jungkook might like him just a little bit, too.

The weather has gotten much colder lately, as it does so early here in Seoul. This is the time of year that Yoongi starts to miss his family, the old streets of Daegu. His father’s stern encouragement to keep working, his mom’s silent support that never wavers.

And he does miss them, of course, but he feels more at home lately. If Seoul will never be his home, then it can be his home away from home. He knows, anyway, that once he _does_ visit Deagu for Christmas, his parent will nag and poke at him about his work and the lack of a steady relationship at this age and he’ll be reminded of why he likes his private Seoul apartment.

Besides, there’s Jungkook.

Yoongi likes spending time with him, during their lessons, occasionally in his studio, out for drinks with their friends, crossing his path when he’s close to campus.

“ _I’m Jimin,”_ the boy had said, bowing slightly to Yoongi. The other boy next to him was looking hardly the same, eyeing Yoongi suspiciously. _“I’m_ _Jungkook’_ _s roommate.”_

He tried to not let it get to him how attractive Jungkook’s friends were. Jealousy is not a good look on him. _“So I’ve heard,”_ he replied. The man—Jimin – had nearly beamed at the admission, nudging Jungkook playfully. _“And you are?”_ Yoongi addressed the other man, taller, with sharper features.

“ _Ah, this is my boyfriend, Taehyung,”_ Jimin had supplied. Oh, okay. Yoongi worried a bit less. Only a bit. People cheat.

“ _Nice to meet you, Yoongi._ _Jungkook_ _talks about you a lot,”_ Taehyung said casually. The aforementioned boy gaped at him a moment, smacking him on the arm.

“ _Tae.”_

Yoongi just grinned. So Jungkook talked about him. That had a funny feeling shooting up his spine. _“You better not mess with_ _him_ _, hyung. Can I call you hyung?”_ Taehyung didn’t give him a chance to allow it or not. _“_ _Jungkookie_ _is a very dear friend of ours.”_

“ _Oh my god, Taehyung. Please shut the fuck up,”_ Jungkook had babbled, exasperated. _“You’re about as threatening as a giant marshmallow.”_

Taehyung eyed him then, accusing, _“Have you never seen_ _Ghostbusters?_ _Stay Puft? You’re telling me that’s not threatening?”_

Jungkook’s friends were definitely protective, and very watchful of Yoongi, but he found himself taking a liking to them. Especially once everyone settled down and forgot about who they were supposed to be to each other.

By now, Jungkook is familiar with the way to the practice room of the building. Yoongi waits there, playing the piano for a bit and then answering emails on his phone, responding to texts. Jungkook always gets here on time, if not early. He’s almost 10 minutes late today, and Yoongi’s gotten nothing from him. So Yoongi figures he just got caught up in something, and he waits some more.

Another ten minutes has passed when his phone lights up in his hand, Jungkook’s caller ID looking up at him. He answers, “Hey there, where are you?”

Jungkook’s voice comes stuffy and a little rough, “I’m so sorry, Yoongi. I thought it would get better when I woke up, but I think I have a cold. And I don’t want to get you sick.”

And, you know, if that’s the case, he needs to rest, too.

The boy on the other end of the phone certainly sounds the part, his words straining with an effort to not sound so miserable. Yoongi distinctly remembers telling Jungkook to dress warmer the last time he saw him. “Hm, I’m sure someone warned you this was going to happen… who was that,” he mocks ponder.

Jungkook goes to sigh but the debris catches in his throat and sends him into a mini fit of coughing, which instantly gets quieter and Yoongi suspects he’s holding the phone away from his face.

“Goddammit,” he breathes back at the phone once he’s done. “I think _that_ was enough of an I told you so, not to mention the fact that I feel dead. I don’t wanna hear it.”

Yoongi grins despite Jungkook’s condition. Okay, fine, maybe he feels a _little_ bad for him. “Alright, then. Are you at least taking care of yourself,” he asks, packing up his stuff to leave the practice room.

“I mean, I guess,” Jungkook croaks. “It’s a cold. What can you do for a cold?”

Of course, he said it like there _isn’t_ anything you can do for a cold. Yoongi chuckles, “Medicine, genius. And warm food. Lots of clothes. Lots of blankets. Water.”

Jungkook just grunts dismissively at his helpful list of remedies, then there's the sounds of sheets rustling. “M’too tired.”

The air outside is crisp as Yoongi steps out into it. He sucks in a sharp breath in reaction to the cold bite. “I’m sure Jimin wouldn’t mind,” he says, because if the man isn’t already fussing over him then that must mean Jungkook hasn’t told him.

“He’s at work. I’ll be _fine_ , hyung,” the sickly boy grumbles, a pout evident in his voice, which just hurts Yoongi’s heart. “I just called to tell you I can’t make it to the lesson. Enjoy the few hours to yourself, won’t you?” Yoongi doesn’t even get the chance to say much in response because Jungkook says, “I’ll see you around. Hopefully when I’m not dying.”

And then he hangs up.

Yoongi just stares down at his phone.

His thoughts take a turn as he gets an idea, which, it’s sort of ridiculous, but… _is_ he crazy? Would it be weird if he brought Jungkook some noodles and some medicine?

Yoongi doesn’t answer his own question and instead he finds himself at the corner store, non-prescription cold medicine, a few bottles of water, and some ramyun being bagged by the cashier. He’s gonna make Jungkook pay for this if he ends up not actually being sick. He buys some cigarettes, too, because he’s been out since yesterday and now he’s craving one, but that’s not the point.

The point is, Yoongi is actually on his way up to Jungkook’s apartment, bearing this shit with the pretense of taking care of him. He vaguely registers how little security the building has; the guy at the front had hardly needed to hear who Yoongi was visiting before he waved him on. What a difference it is from where Namjoon lives.

He knocks three times once he gets to the door, hoping to god that Jungkook has heat because the hallways and staircases do _not_.

It takes a second for anyone to answer the door, but when Jungkook does, he’s positively surprised. “Yoongi-hyung, what in the hell…?” He’s eyeing the bag in Yoongi’s hand and Yoongi’s eyeing Jungkook’s adorable [pajamas](https://pm1.narvii.com/6675/b5b7150ad238dd2bef12320514003e0d75da65ad_hq.jpg) coupled with some unruly hair.

Sure enough, Jungkook is looking pretty sickly, skin clammy and pale and dark bags under his eyes. His nose is red from where it’s been rubbed relentlessly and his eyes are glassy with sickness haze. “Hello, darling. I’ve come to help,” he says triumphantly, holding the bags out at Jungkook.

Still stunned, Jungkook steps aside and lets him in. He does, of course, come in, and he sets the bag on the kitchen table. Jungkook’s apartment is cute. A little cluttered, but it could never even begin to compare to Yoongi’s. And he doesn’t even have a roommate anymore.

Jungkook slinks into a dining chair next to where Yoongi stands, looking weak, and rummages through the plastic bag that Yoongi brought. “Hyung, you didn’t have to bring me all of this,” he says, sounding guilty.

“Please. I bet you wouldn’t even have told me you were sick if we didn’t have a piano lesson today,” he points out while he sets to making the packet of ramyun. Jungkook is silent then, and Yoongi knows he knows it’s true.

When he looks over his shoulder, back at the other boy, his hand is propping up his head and he’s watching Yoongi sleepily. He really tries to ignore how much it makes his heart flutter.

When the ramyun is done, Yoongi sets it in front of Jungkook and pulls out the water he bought. “Wait, you got ramyun?” Yoongi just nods his head with a hum, busy looking at how much medicine Jungkook supposed to take. “I don’t want to upset my stomach,” he says wearily.

Yoongi looks at him then, urging, “The spiciness will loosen your sinuses up, sweetheart. Trust me. This medicine will probably knock you out afterwards, anyway. And I know you want to sleep, but you can’t take this on an empty stomach. So eat up.”

Jungkook eventually obeys and tentatively begins picking at the food. After the first bite, he hums in a way that is a borderline moan, tilting his head back. Yoongi quirks a brow at him, smirking. Too many things run through his head.

Pink rises to Jungkook’s cheeks as he mumbles, “Sorry, it just feels good to have some warm food.”

The two of them sit in relative silence as Jungkook eats, and Yoongi doesn’t really like ramyun himself so he just keeps him company, occasionally checking his phone when he gets a text or two.

When Jungkook finishes, he takes the medicine and Yoongi sends a bottle of water back with him when he goes to lay down. Yoongi tells him that he should finish it if he can.

Yoongi wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving Jungkook alone in the apartment, especially if the ramyun _did_ end up making him sick. So he hangs around. He cleans up the remains of the food and the plastic. He leans out of Jungkook’s living room window and has a cigarette. He watches TV.

It’s almost been an hour since Jungkook fell asleep, and Jimin will be getting back from work soon. So when someone with a key starts opening up the door, he figures that must be him. He’s barely able to get off the couch before the person comes in and--

It’s not Jimin. It’s Namjoon.

They stare at each other for a moment, confused.

Fuck.

Namjoon speaks first, “What are you doing here?” Yoongi almost wants to ask him the same thing but Namjoon is Jungkook’s brother, it makes sense that he has a key and that he stops by his apartment.

And then he realizes the situation he’s in and how it must look, Yoongi chilling in the middle of Jungkook’s apartment with nobody else home but them. “Jungkook said he was sick so I brought him some stuff.” It’s a little vague, but.

“He’s sick?” A nod. “And you came all the way to his apartment?” Another nod.

Namjoon looks like he’s mad but he doesn’t want to be, pursing his lips as he eyes Yoongi. “...You two have been getting close lately.”

Oh god. Yoongi just had to come here, didn’t he?

“Um, yeah,” he says awkwardly, even though it isn’t a question.

There is a very long, tense pause, and then Namjoon finally tears his eyes off of Yoongi and turns to the kitchen, tossing his phone and keys onto the counter. “Where is he,” he asks curiously, looking back at Yoongi again.

Yoongi gestures to the direction or Jungkook’s bedroom. “He’s still sleeping, I think. The medicine said it would probably make him fall asleep.”

Namjoon hums in acknowledgment. His eyes are softer the next time they meet Yoongi’s. “You know, I do appreciate you taking care of him. We’ve been short with each other lately because of some family stuff, so.” Yoongi thinks about how Namjoon calls their parents family when Jungkook considers them to be separate people, unless Namjoon is involved.

“ _They’ll always be our family, but they won’t always be each other’s,”_ Jungkook had said.

“Yeah, no problem,” he says lamely.

Namjoon looks at him for a moment, in a way that says ‘yes, thank you, but also don’t forget what you promised. This _is_ my brother we’re talking about.’

“Alight, well, I’ve got it from here. He should probably wake up and shower before it gets too late,” Namjoon sighs, picking up one of the waters off the table.

Yoongi gets home 20 minutes later. He replies to emails until he’s tired and eventually goes to sleep. He wonders what it would’ve been like to crawl in Jungkook’s bed and let him wrap himself around him, after some arguments that Yoongi would have gotten sick, of course.

He is so fucked, isn’t he?

In hindsight, Yoongi knows he should not have listened to Hoseok.

“ _It’ll be fun,”_ he said. _“It’s just for one night,”_ he said. _“We all need this,”_ he said.

By the end of things, the fact that Jungkook agreed to come was what sold it. So, a week after the faithful conversation over beer and tteokbokki, Yoongi has planned a trip with some of his friends to the other end of the country for a goddamn _food_ _fair_ _._ And for Hoseok to surprise his parents. Whatever.

They leave tomorrow at eight in the morning and take a two-hour train ride to Gwangju Songjeong Station, then they take a short bus ride that shouldn’t take longer than 25 minutes to the Holiday Inn there.

Here’s where things take a turn.

The conversation about hotel rooms, prices, and arrangements hadn’t exactly gone well for Yoongi. It doesn’t help that Seokjin and Hoseok are out to get him.

“ _Do you guys wanna get the party room? Or the family room, whatever it is,”_ Hoseok had proposed.

Seokjin had scrunched up his nose immediately, _“_ _Y_ _ou don’t think that’d be too much?”_

All four of them staying in one room? Yes.

So they decide to get double rooms. It’s the better option, because even if it’s more expensive that way, it’s more comfortable.

Except Hoseok made a life-altering decision when he chimed, _“Awesome. Me and_ _Jin-hyung_ _,_ _Jungkookie_ _and Yoongi.”_

So here he is. The night before they all leave, setting his alarm, packing some shit into a bag (he’s overly conscious of what he’s going to wear to sleep considering that he is going to share a room with Jungkook).

Yoongi quite literally had a moment in the shower, where he realized, holy fuck he’s going to be in a hotel room with Jungkook, alone, and he may or may not have popped a boner while thinking about what it’d be like to have him crawl into Yoongi’s bed. Whether he did anything about it is besides the point…

He’s overthinking it. After so much pining over some sort of sexual interaction with the boy, he’s getting carried away like some sort of teenager who doesn’t know what it’s like to fuck someone. And it’s stupid. The reality of it is: the two of them will awkwardly say goodnight from across the room and lay awake without moving a muscle and pretend to be asleep.

He tries to tells himself this, because he logically knows it’s true. But he wants Jungkook really fucking bad and it’s _hard_. So Yoongi forces himself to go to sleep. And he has another dream, this time of holding Jungkook’s hand on the streets of Gwangju, making him laugh, kissing him, fucking him into the hotel mattress.

“Hyung! Christ! You really are some sort of rock formation.”

Yoongi’s mind is a muddled mess of his dream, that he can hardly remember now, and a shrill voice, yanking at his blankets over the sound of a ringtone. He has to blink away the blurriness of his eyes for several long moments before he can even see anything, and then it’s just Hoseok’s face set in some obnoxious, accusing expression.

“What--” he tries, voice rough. He clears his throat. “What the fuck, Hoseok?”

He gets a disappointed sigh from the fully dressed man as he starts the process of sitting up and remembering who he is. “You slept through your alarm. And good thing I know you, or else we would have to leave without you,” Hoseok says, hands on his hips while he watches Yoongi begin to drag himself out of his bed.

“...Fuck,” he breathes. “What time is it?” He reaches over and begins putting on the clothes he left in a messy pile last night so he wouldn’t have to think about it in the morning. No problems changing in front of Hoseok-- he’s not taking his boxers off, anyway. Hoseok got plenty of eye-fulls when they used to be roommates.

“It’s almost 7:20, so you got about 10 minutes to get your shit together and then we gotta meet Jungkook and Seokjin at the station,” Hoseok urges just as Yoongi finishes getting [dressed](https://66.media.tumblr.com/2ebfa486295dbbcffffbbfdc91803949/tumblr_ooxkgn0qGj1w5bteao5_250.jpg).

His stuff is pretty much ready to pick up and go, but he has to brush his teeth and do a few other things that he’ll put back into the bag when he’s done. Hoseok follows him into the bathroom, not caring about privacy as Yoongi begins scrubbing at his teeth and taming his hair.

“Thanks for putting Jungkook in the same room with me,” he grumbles sarcastically. Definitely not over it anytime soon.

Hoseok just smirks, smug and proud from where he leans on the door frame. “You’re welcome,” he chirps, chin tilted up. “I see the way you look at him, you got fuckin’ stars in your eyes, man. Though, sometimes I don’t know if you want to hug him or devour him.”

_Me neither._

“Fuck off,” Yoongi says, rolling his eyes, because no. He doesn’t get like that. Min Yoongi does not get _stars_ in his _eyes_.

Hoseok just laughs annoyingly and Yoongi rinses his mouth, brushing past him so he can put his toothpaste and other miscellaneous things into his bag. “I can’t believe you haven’t fucked him yet, hyung,” Hoseok awes.

_Me neither._

“You usually take about one drink and twenty minutes to pounce on some poor twink,” Hoseok pokes. Yoongi really wishes he would drop it. “But Jungkook isn’t just _some_ _guy_ is he,” the man says dramatically, like he’s been dropped into the middle of some shitty drama.

“Do you want to die?”

Hoseok follows Yoongi into the living room, cackling his ass off. Yoongi’s shoving his keys into his pocket when the younger man makes an attempt at being serious, hand reaching out and grabbing at Yoongi’s arm.

“Hey, seriously though, hyung,” Hoseok levels genuinely, looking at Yoongi in the eyes and swallowing his grin into something more accepting. “If you do actually like him, that’s not something you should fight. Namjoon wouldn’t try to stop you from _that_. You know that, right?”

No, he doesn’t. Because he promised Namjoon. And things have finally started getting somewhat normal between the him and Jungkook--well, as normal as it can get. After that night in his studio, it’s been a true friendship between them. Of course, he still _wants_ , but there aren’t any more compromising situations or slip-ups. He’s doing good. He’s not trying to stick his tongue down Jungkook’s throat in a nightclub.

“ _He’s had some rotten relationships the past few years… hell, I might even have your head for it.”_

“ _Promise me? Just not my brother, man.”_

“ _You better not mess with_ _him_ _, hyun_ _g.”_

All he ends up saying is, “Yeah, sure, Hoseok. Let’s get going before we miss the train or something.”

Seoul station is, as predicted, chaotic. Yoongi isn’t the biggest fan of traveling like this, with so many things to worry about and remember, with so many people in close proximity. And it feels like he’s still not completely awake yet.

Yoongi follows Hoseok fairly absentmindedly. After handling the tickets and bags, they sit on a nearby bench. Hoseok calls Seokjin, who says he’s with Jungkook, and the two of them are just making it inside the station.

“See, even _we_ made it before them,” Yoongi points out.

“Only because I _knew_ you were going to oversleep.”

By the time Jungkook and Seokjin are finished retrieving their own tickets, there’s only a few minutes before all of them need to be boarding. Hoseok and Yoongi meet Seokjin and Jungkook at the gate, where Yoongi is not very pleased to see the Seokjin’s arm casually slung around the younger [boy’s](https://data.whicdn.com/images/308549411/original.jpg) shoulder like it belongs there.

“Alright, everybody got their tickets,” Hoseok checks, turning before they go through and down the stairs.  
  


Everyone confirms that they do, but as they all reach the platform, Jungkook frowns at his ticket. “Hyung, our tickets say we’re all facing forward but the seat numbers are different.”

Hoseok’s brows furrow as he slings his bag farther up his shoulder and grabs the slip from Jungkook. “I reserved for us to be in the same row, didn’t I?”

Jungkook nods, and Seokjin holds out his ticket as well. “Ah, Yoongi-hyung, let me see your ticket,” Hoseok requests, waving his hands. Yoongi does, untangles his hand from his bag strap and hands it over. The younger man looks at for a second, then looks back at Jungkook’s ticket. “I don’t know why your tickets have these seat numbers. It doesn’t make sense...” he ponders. Logically, it would have been smart to have examined the tickets before they went through the gate. Then they could have asked the workers at the counter about it.

“Is my ticket not valid,” Jungkook asks, looking up at Hoseok for answers.

He’s quick to reassure him. “No, no, it is. But there’s a gap in the seat numbers and letters that doesn’t match the layout.”

Yoongi wants to do something, but he’s none the wiser. He just watches at the train finally arrives.

They end up having to ask an attendant once they’re on the train. The man is helpful, leading the four of them to the seats. Yoongi thinks that’s that, and goes to sit down, but the attendant stops him. He tells him that those seats aren’t supposed to be occupied.

Yoongi’s seat is in one row up from Hoseok and Seokjin’s. Jungkook’s seat is, too.

Which, okay. It’s fine. He doesn’t mind sitting with Jungkook, of course. But if those seats are going to be empty, he wishes they could just slightly bend the rules so that him and Jungkook could at least be in the same row with Hoseok and Jin. But that’s Korea for you.

“Sorry, guys. If I had known this one was double-sided like this, I would’ve booked those seats,” Hoseok sighs as they begin putting their bags up.

(Obviously, Hoseok could just switch seats with Yoongi. Nobody ever really confirms anyone’s tickets here, they only check to see if a seat is supposed to be occupied or not. Now that the attendant is out of sight, it’d be simple. None of them say anything.)

“It’s okay, hyung. It’s just a train ride,” Jungkook says genuinely. Booking the tickets over the internet is never an easy process…

Yoongi eyes Jungkook as he begins to settle into the outside seat, caging Yoongi to the inside one. Jungkook looks up when he senses it, raising his eyebrows in question. “You get the outside seat, huh?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, shooting Yoongi a look. “Yeah, because we both know you’re going to sleep the whole time. And you won’t want me waking you up if I have to go somewhere.”

The accuracy of Jungkook’s prediction is a testament to how well they’ve gotten to know each other, because Yoongi does exactly that. He sleeps the solid two hours and doesn’t wake up once until the train has almost reached Gwangju Songjeong station. It’s a pretty uncomfortable way to sleep, but he needed it, that’s for sure.

Jungkook’s hand on Yoongi’s arm gently shakes him awake from his dreamless sleep, his voice calling at him and telling him that he needs to get up, that they’re almost to the station. As he stirs and looks around, he can feel the stiffness of his limbs and his cloudy brain pulsing at him.

“You alright over there?”

It’s Jungkook speaking to him, amused. Yoongi looks over at the younger boy, sitting next to him, and smiles almost sourly. He rasps, “Yeah, I think so, sweetheart. M’ready to get to the hotel.” Jungkook hums in agreement.

Once they arrive, the four of them are quick to grab their bags and swim through the other passengers. They make it through the turnstiles without problems and through the main area to the nearby bus stop. Seokjin whispers to Yoongi and teases him about calling Jungkook sweetheart until it arrives, allowing Yoongi to walk away before he elbows the man in the ribs.

The ride is short, only about fifteen minutes, actually. They all collectively let out an audible breath as they step out of the bus, relieved to no longer be squished.

“I’m starving,” Jungkook voices as they enter the lobby of the hotel.

“Who feels like getting food and bringing it back to the rooms?” Yoongi’s asking because he sure doesn’t.

Seokjin is quick to say, “Not me. I was the one who booked our rooms, so I have to get our keys and stuff.”

Hoseok and Yoongi both drop their bags onto the lobby sofa, and Jungkook sits down next to them as he looks around at the surroundings, seemingly not paying attention to the conversation. Hoseok generously volunteers, “I can pick something up. I wanna walk around a bit anyway.”

So it’s settled. Yoongi sits comfortably next to Jungkook on the couch as Seokjin goes and checks into their rooms, exchanging conversation with Jungkook about how nice the hotel is. It should be. It’s pretty expensive.

Thankfully, there aren’t any complications with checking into the rooms. Jungkook and Yoongi get up and follow Seokjin to the elevator, taking their room keys. By request, everyone has one of their own.

They finally, _finally_ make it to their hotel rooms after misreading the room numbers down the hall and missing a turn. Jungkook and Yoongi open up theirs, and Seokjin opens up his and Hoseok’s because both Jungkook and Yoongi want to stop carrying around their shit.

When they open the door, however...

Scratch what Yoongi said before. There are major, ginormous, disaster complications with the rooms.

“Oh,” Jungkook murmurs dumbly, standing still with eyes fixed on the big thing people call a bed, the kind that is made for two people. At once.

“Hyung,” Yoongi calls as he comes out of the room and rounds to the other one. Seokjin is fighting like hell to keep from grinning, Yoongi can tell. If this man wasn’t his hyung... “What is this?”

Jin has the guts to act innocent. “Hm? What’s wrong, Yoongi-ah?”

Yoongi glares hard at him, hoping lasers will burst from his eyes and burn painfully through his skin. “ _Hyung_ ,” he repeats with a hiss.

Seokjin grins, out of Jungkook’s sight, and taunts quietly, “Oh, s’this about the bed? Yeah, there weren’t anymore double rooms with twin beds.”

Yoongi gapes, gesturing wildly just past him where two freshly made beds sit. “ _This_ room has twin beds!”

Seokjin turns around, examining the room and acting like he hadn’t noticed. Which is outrageous, because he knows exactly what he’s doing. He should absolutely _not_ have been in charge of booking the rooms. “Ah, well, this was the last one,” Jin mocks remorse.

_Deep breaths._

What does Yoongi even do? Make a big deal out of it? Then he might as well just out and say he can’t sleep in a bed with Jungkook because he is actually concerned about his intentions.

Yoongi and Seokjin stare at each other for a long time, refusing to move, and the older man isn’t even holding back his shitty smile when Yoongi backs down and turns back for his room. His room he shares with Jungkook. _Their_ room.

He’s overreacting again, right?

“Seokjin said this was apparently the only double room left,” Yoongi explains awkwardly when he’s back. Jungkook’s already pulling out random things; phone charger, toiletries, a few clothes.

He looks up at the sound of his voice, lips parting in understanding. “Oh,” he repeats. Which is horribly cute because Yoongi feels like he knows exactly what is going through the other boy’s head from this. “Well, um, it’ll be fine, right? I mean, if not, I can sleep on the floor or--”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Yoongi snorts, rolling his eyes. “You’re not sleeping on the damn hotel floor. A bed is made for sleeping in. It _will_ be fine.”

Jungkook smiles at that, probably feeling a little silly for getting so nervous, but Yoongi knows the feeling. It really is just sleeping in a bed. It’s not that big of a deal. Both of them are feeling it.

“Speaking of, I really could use a proper nap. What’re you planning to do,” Yoongi asks, walking up to where Jungkook sits on the bed. He unzips and sheds his jacket, carelessly tossing it over to the desk. He definitely doesn’t miss the way Jungkook’s cheeks darken and his eyes dart to his torso, then away like the sight stung him.

“Um...” he observes the room and his stuff on the edge of the bed. “Would it… never mind.”

Jungkook goes to get up and mess with his stuff but Yoongi stops him, brows furrowed as he encourages, “Would it?”

Jungkook chews at his bottom lip, and Yoongi would be lying if he said he didn’t drop his gaze to watch it. “...Be okay if I took one with you,” he finishes shyly. “I didn’t get any sleep on the train, and a nap sounds really good.”

Yoongi grins without resistance. It sounds harmless; a nap in the daylight with their friends on the other side of the left wall. Still, it makes his heart beat a little faster. “Sure, darling,” he utters. _Great, Yoongi, use an intimate pet name when the two of you are supposed to take a platonic nap in the same bed._

It seems to put Jungkook at ease, though. Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to crawl onto the mattress, fighting back the moan that threatens his mouth when he feels how soft it is. Hotel beds are a gift from the gods.

“Hoseok is going to be bringing food,” Jungkook recalls suddenly. Yoongi grunts in dismissal, and the other boy doesn’t sound like he’s too worried about it either, despite him being the one who was hungry.

Yoongi pulls out his phone from his back pocket as he mumbles, “I’ll text him and tell him we’re sleeping.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything, just silently acknowledges Yoongi as he gathers his things and sets them on the floor so that he can lay down. Yoongi doesn’t bother checking his phone when it vibrates back, surely just Hoseok’s teasing.

It takes considerable effort to actually tug the comforters down so the two of them can crawl under them. They both settle silently, awkwardly, under the same blanket. The bed isn’t that big; there’s less than a foot between them. It’s so quiet. Footsteps walk past the door and down the hallway. Yoongi wants a cigarette. He really should’ve smoked before they made the trek several floors up to the room because now he’s craving and he’s too lazy to go all the way downstairs.

A little nervously, Yoongi sneaks a peek at Jungkook next to him, and he looks at him at the same time. Whether it’s because it’s so outrageously awkward, or they’re both just jittery, the two of them burst into laughter. It’s kind of giddy, because they’re tired and the situation is so… silly. Yoongi feels so much more at ease with the genuine chuckles that wrack his chest.

“Oh fuck,” he sighs, trying to calm himself. He’s still grinning like crazy. “How did we get here?”

“It’s Jin-hyung’s fault,” Jungkook giggles, hand running over his face a moment. Well, at least he’s aware that Seokjin did this on purpose.

Yoongi spares Jungkook a long look then. He stares back, both of their smiles refusing to fade. Jungkook is right there, and this situation can either be easy or it can be difficult. Yoongi doesn’t want it to be awkward like this. Maybe he’s craving it, maybe he’s trying to ease the tension, fuck, maybe it just feels _right_ , but he’s speaking and moving before he can figure it out. “C’mere.”

He holds his arm up, giving Jungkook rightful room for protest. He knows Yoongi, and Yoongi knows Jungkook. He could just shake his head, brush it off, tell him it’s okay. And for a moment, it seems like he will, as apprehensive as he is. But, surprisingly, it subsides. And Jungkook complies.

His head lands on the juncture between Yoongi’s chest and shoulder before anything, not-so-discreetly trying to hide the fact that he’s flustered. It makes Yoongi smile, even though he’s sure Jungkook can hear his heart trying to jump from his body. Once Jungkook scoots over and he’s so very close, Yoongi tentatively wraps an arm around his waist.

Somehow, Yoongi can’t bring himself to mind the torture that he’s putting himself through. Maybe he’s becoming some sort of masochist when it comes to Jungkook. Because the way he’s pressed against him, it’s the closest the two of them have ever been, and it’s so intimate, and yeah, it’s not _just_ his heart, but also Yoongi’s _dick_ that is definitely expressing it’s fondness for the situation.

He’s thinking of anything to get it to fuck off, because even while Jungkook can’t see it under the blanket and his hands should have no reason to reach his crotch, it’s fucking _weird_. Yoongi is attracted to Jungkook, yes, but he’s not a perv. And this is pervy. _He_ was the one who encouraged this!

Yoongi’s usual thoughts are not working, because he can’t stop focusing on the way Jungkook feels, the smell of his skin, for long enough to edge them in. It’s so confusing to feel one’s chest warming at the same time that their dick does. He regrets so much in his life that has lead him up to this point. Most of which are his own damn decisions.

In a horror-filled moment, Jungkook abruptly raises his head and cranes his neck to look at Yoongi. He’s so close, so beautiful, Yoongi thinks. There’s a mantra of _he knows_ _he_ _knows oh my god_ _he_ _knows I’m about half-hard right now holy shit_ ringing in his head for the few seconds that Jungkook doesn’t say anything.

It’s odd, because he looks like he really wants to say something but he doesn’t know what it is or how exactly to say it. Like he sat up before he thought it through. Which, Yoongi kinda feels like that’s been most of his actions for the past twenty minutes. Maybe for the past several months that he’s known Jungkook.

And even now, when Yoongi leans forward and presses his lips to the younger’s. It’s just too strong of an urge to push away, with Jungkook’s breath gently fanning over his face and his eyes on his mouth. Jungkook presses back quickly. It’s different from the past two times that they’re kissed. It’s deep, but soft. Sweet, but heated.

Jungkook’s body angles towards Yoongi a little subconsciously, his hand gently resting on his stomach to steady himself. That shouldn’t have as much of an effect on Yoongi as it does, his skin prickling with goosebumps. Cautiously, curiously, his tongue pokes out to lick the seam of Jungkook’s pretty pink lips. Much like at the club that night, he allows Yoongi in with zero protest. There’s something about it that just gets at him.

The moment Yoongi’s tongue reaches Jungkook’s, he knows that he’s done for. He allows himself a few seconds to lick into his mouth before he forces himself back just enough to pant, “Sweetheart, is this okay?” Jungkook whines quietly and nods in response, which is so hot that Yoongi kind of loses his head for a moment and almost dives right back into him. But he catches himself, because he’s serious. “If we start this, I don’t want to stop,” he warns him, lips brushing against Jungkook’s.

Jungkook finally opens his eyes and pulls away further, which draws Yoongi’s attention. “Then don’t stop,” he whispers, eyes hazy and hand slowly sliding further across his stomach.

That does it, sending Yoongi crashing back onto Jungkook’s mouth with a pleased grumble. God, this is really happening? He _really_ has Jungkook here, in his arms, on his lips, telling him not to stop. Yoongi’s unable to cope with the emotions and adrenaline rushing up his insides, kissing the other boy in a frenzy like he is.

Slowly, Yoongi sits up and rolls over so that Jungkook is on his back and Yoongi hovering over him, not once breaking from his lips. His hands on Jungkook’s skin are restless, rubbing and feeling anything he can reach. His body just fits; under Yoongi’s hands, his fingers, his own body. The taste of his mouth floods him, vibrating through him for the seconds before he leans back.

Yoongi doesn’t waste time and attaches himself to Jungkook’s neck, kissing the skin slow and deep. Jungkook exhales softly and the air brushes the side of his head. “Yoongi...”

Something about that pierces through Yoongi. Such a dainty thing he imagined so many times with his hand around his cock and his arm thrown over his eyes to shut out the real world and envision Jungkook. There was nothing to prepare him for the way that reality crashes over him, the recognition of his name spilling out of the boy so sinfully, the sudden consciousness that it’s from _his_ ministrations. All while he’s barely doing anything.

“Greedy baby,” he grins against Jungkook’s skin, reveling in his effect on his body. Jungkook lets out a little laugh that sounds like it’s mostly directed at himself for getting so worked up so easily. Yoongi tingles all over at how natural being with Jungkook like this comes.

One of Jungkook’s hands slide up into Yoongi’s hair, gently tugging him back up and Yoongi’s cock twitches in his horrific jeans as they meet in a crude kiss. It’s filled with so much raw need, like there’s no holding back now that they’re both here. Which, that _is_ what Yoongi had warned.

“Fuck,” Jungkook begins against Yoongi’s mouth, trying to pull away enough to speak. And to breathe, but. “More.”

Yoongi blinks down at him. He forgets to exhale for a minute, because hearing those words come out of Jungkook’s mouth in that breathy voice of his is something that even his wildest fantasies could have never matched. Before he knows it, he’s back on him with a rough groan.

Something primal rises within him, the desire flooding out any traces of his apprehension effectively. His hands are tugging at Jungkook’s top, his breath coming out harsher than before. Jungkook is shirtless in just a second, falling back into the mattress with a soft sigh. Yoongi’s lips find his chest, pressing sloppy kisses along his sternum.

Yoongi pulls back to slip a thigh between Jungkook’s and readjust his body, and as he does, he catches the full view of the boy; laid under him, chest bare, hazy eyes inspecting him watchfully, lips constantly parted to let little pants out. Fucking _abs_. “Jesus...” he breathes without hesitation, “You are so goddamn gorgeous.”

Jungkook’s eyes go wide for a moment and it’s obvious he’s at a loss for words. Yoongi doesn’t need a response, though. In admiration, he runs his hands over the exposed skin of Jungkook’s torso. The dents of his abs. Yoongi rubs his thumb over Jungkook’s nipples, almost experimentally, though he knows what he’s doing. Jungkook gasps softly and his chest twitches upward, like he’s trying to push the feeling away and get more of it at the same time. “Mh, hyung-” he squirms when Yoongi keeps it up, feeling the buds harden naturally under his fingertips.

“You’re so sensitive,” he tilts his head in awe, cock throbbing responsively in his jeans. “Think I could make you cum like this?”

Jungkook scoffs, “Fuck off.” But he’s grinning and making no move to push him away, so Yoongi doesn’t hear any bite in the tone.

Snickering lightly, Yoongi lets up and leans farther up Jungkook’s beautiful body. He’s unable to stay this long without revisiting the taste of his lips. Jungkook is a little more reactive this time, taking a chance to slip his tongue past the seam of Yoongi’s lips, grown desperate already. Yoongi wants to tell him to settle down, that the two of them have hours, but he kind of likes it. Okay, he really likes it.

Sneakily, Yoongi’s slender fingers slide down Jungkook’s stomach. The brunette breaks out in goosebumps, followed by a shiver. Yoongi smiles and kisses along his jaw, murmuring, “You cold, petal?”

Yoongi can feel Jungkook’s skin stretch into a matching grin under his lips as he taunts, “I dunno, maybe if you’d give me something to get hot over...”

Yoongi tuts and digs his teeth into the skin of his neck, just barely, in warning. “Careful what you ask for.”

Jungkook’s response is quick and breathy while his hips cant up to Yoongi's fingers, now pressing against Jungkook’s crotch over his boxers. “I know what I’m asking for.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows lift in surprise at the same time he leans back, looking Jungkook in the eyes. There’s something fierce there, but it’s so faint that Yoongi almost doesn’t recognize it. He tries to decide if he wants to give the boy everything he wants, or if he wants to fuck him into submission.

“You’ve got a smart mouth,” he points out, smirking and rubbing at Jungkook’s erection painfully slow.

Yoongi might want to fuck him into submission.

Jungkook’s mouth falls open but no sound comes out. His eyes are still locked onto Yoongi’s, even as he’s practically fucking himself over Yoongi’s palm. Yoongi looks down at the motion-- the rolling of Jungkook’s perfect hips and the way his pale hand cups over the fabric. He damn well loves it. Yoongi mocks, “Look at you. Talking big but fucking yourself like that. You want more?”

Yoongi knows he does, it’s obvious. He wants him to say it.

Jungkook doesn’t, continuing to jerk his hips up gently. Yoongi likes how insatiable the boy has gotten. His eyelids flutter shut and his tongue sweeps over the corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything. Yoongi’s not having that.

His hand pulls away quickly, decidedly. Jungkook gives no reaction other than the opening of his eyes and stilling of his hips. Yoongi grins down at the younger evilly, “You’re so _hard_ , darling. You _must_ want something, hm?”

Jungkook’s teeth dig into his bottom lip then, the fire in his eyes flaring up. “ _Yeah_ , so I might as well get it myself,” he bites, and Yoongi doesn’t understand exactly until he catches sight of Jungkook’s hand releasing the sheets and traveling between his legs. He scoffs in disbelief as Jungkook, right under him, begins to undo his jeans and shove them down so he can get a hand around his erection.

“You...” he mutters, speechless. Maybe he underestimated Jungkook. Yoongi’s erection screams at him from the confines of his cursed denim.

Jungkook’s body is desperate, that much is for sure. His words are hardly solid enough to back up his feigned willpower. Yoongi likes seeing him like this.

The look in Jungkook’s eyes is not so much defiant as it is… challenging. That’s it. As he runs his hand up his cock obscenely, under his gaze, Jungkook’s giving him a silent, _“what are you gonna do about it?”_ look. Maybe Yoongi has never been this hard.

He jerks Jungkook’s hands from his underwear, swiftly wrapping his fingers around Jungkook’s wrists and leaning forward to pin them down on either side of his head. Jungkook gasps up at him, wide eyes surprised and expecting. Yoongi doesn’t say anything for a few moments, wanting to make the younger wait. Jungkook wriggles impatiently under the weight of Yoongi’s upper body. “Is this what you want, darling? Me to pin you down, fuck you dumb, make you beg,” he digs finally, towering over Jungkook. It’s almost kind of funny, the difference in muscle mass between the two of them.

Even while rendered immobile, Jungkook finds it in himself to smirk—just enough to make Yoongi’s insides twitch with the desire to _ruin_ him—and breathe, “You’ll never make me beg.”

  
Well.

Jungkook just keeps surprising him. Yoongi thinks he knows his ways, what he might say, but it’s clear that he can never tell what’s going to come out of his mouth. Jungkook’s words are a challenge, though, that much is true.

“Hm,” Yoongi hums thoughtfully, inconceivably calm while he’s harder than he’s ever been, and without even touching himself at that. “We’ll see.”

He needs to be inside Jungkook, have him speared on his cock, that smirk on his face morphed into a dizzy smile because all he can do is _take_ it.

All in due time.

“Are you gonna keep your hands off if I let go of them, pretty?” His fringe falls in his eyes slightly as he stares down at Jungkook’s body.  
  


He hums in the same tone, “Not sure. You gonna make me?”

Yoongi blinks.

Fuck, he was really something else. Yoongi curses under his breath, cock twitching faithfully. He’s so screwed. He certainly didn’t expect for Jungkook to be so bratty in bed, but it surprisingly has fire licking up his muscles in urges to just throw Jungkook over and give it to him. This is so much better than anything his imagination could have conjured up. “You’ve been holding out on me, haven’t you?”

Yoongi releases Jungkook’s wrists of his iron grip and pulls the slightly crumbled sheet out from under the comforter. “Not holding out,” he sasses. “Just been wondering when you were finally gonna fuck me.”

Tying his wrists together above his head with the thin cotton sheet, Yoongi huffs in incredulity. “So you were counting on it, then.” Jungkook’s wrists aren’t bound to anything as there isn’t anything to tie them to, but it’s a reminder. A promise that he can and will pin them down if he needs to.

It’s a very pleasing thought, Jungkook waiting for Yoongi to get between his legs all this time. Even while he’s flirted with Yoongi several times, kissed him, ground his body against him like it’d produce hundred dollar bills, it’s exhilarating to hear it come from his mouth.

Jungkook makes a sarcastic sound in his throat and quips candidly like it’s obvious, “Of course I was.”

Yoongi shifts himself down Jungkook’s body, fingers wrapping around the material of his jeans and boxers and dragging them away. “For how long?”

Yoongi asks that distantly, because he’s fixed on the sight of Jungkook completely naked, all of him exposed to Yoongi. He’s beautiful, Yoongi thinks for the millionth time. His skin is soft and void of blemishes, and he’s got thighs like you can’t believe. The only thing that makes it better is his tiny waist, just _made_ for Yoongi to grab when he buries himself inside of the boy.

Yoongi’s eyes flit up to Jungkook’s when he doesn’t respond. Yoongi leans in close, his hot breath coming in contact with Jungkook’s erection. Pure torture, probably. Jungkook swallows hard. “Since we met,” he finally answers, and this time there’s a waver to his voice. Yoongi rewards him with one long, devastating lick up his cock, flicking his tongue over the head. Jungkook moans in gratitude, back arching just a little as he fights bucking up at Yoongi’s mouth. It takes everything in Yoongi not to keep going because holy fuck he really wants to feel Jungkook, hot and heavy, on his tongue, and he’s only got so much strength.

But, Yoongi doesn’t dive right back in, doesn’t touch Jungkook again. The younger catches on quickly; give Yoongi what he wants and he will get what he wants. “I-I went home after the party,” Jungkook stutters, breaking out into another sound of pleasure as Yoongi begins to suckle on the head of Jungkook’s dick. An encouragement to keep going. “Fuck-- and I, uh, thought about you fucking me up against the glass door, rode my pillow n’ thought about what you would do t’me,” Jungkook whines honestly.

Yoongi moans embarrassingly loud around Jungkook, dropping his head further down to take more of him. He has to focus on not cumming untouched, in his pants like a little boy. How does Jungkook know all the things that get him so worked up? It’s almost like he’s saying these things on purpose, knowingly. He’s positive he’s never wanted to plow someone as much as he does the beautiful boy in front of him.

Holding back is certainly not Yoongi’s goal in this moment. His head is bobbing now, greedily dragging wet suction up and down the length of Jungkook again and again. There’s a sensation of hands in his hair among Jungkook’s moans.

Yoongi pulls back quickly, not bothering to wipe away the saliva dribbling his chin. He grabs Jungkook’s wrists, still bound together by the sheet, and kneels so that he can press them above his head once more. Jungkook glares up at him like a child, squirming. “Easy, sweetheart. You can keep your hands to yourself, can’t you?”

Jungkook continues to stare at him for a few moments, but Yoongi watches in accomplishment as his eyes soften and he nods his compliance.

Yoongi smirks as he lowers himself back between Jungkook’s legs. “See there? You _can_ be a good boy for me,” he hums, wrapping his hands around Jungkook’s waist to hold him down. He moans softly at Yoongi’s words, tilting his head back a little. So, he likes that. Yoongi files that information away.

Yoongi lifts his right hand off Jungkook’s hip and brings it to trail down his balls. His head ducks back down to catch Jungkook’s cock in his mouth again, and, watching Jungkook’s reaction, he presses a fingertip to his rim. Yoongi’s not pushing in or anything, because he hasn’t even put any lube on the skin yet, but it’s just enough to make him _feel_ it. Jungkook moans without even breathing in first, eyes jumping down to meet his. Yoongi thinks he looks like an absolute _dream_ , flushed and panting, a slight upturn in his brows from the restraint it takes not to thread his fingers through Yoongi’s hair.

After fetching the lube and a condom from his bag (you bet your ass Yoongi came prepared) Yoongi returns to the panting boy, sprawled out on the bed.

From there, Yoongi kind of loses track of time, lost in the thrumming of Jungkook’s body and the way Jungkook moans as Yoongi begins opening him up. Yoongi’s only got two in when Jungkook’s moans begin to gradually increase in volume and he starts losing control of his muscles, squirming helplessly as Yoongi goes at him.

It’s really just a hunch, but Yoongi asks anyway, “Are you close?”

Jungkook’s hands, which he’s been very good about keeping to himself, come over his face to wipe some of the sweat away from his forehead. The fabric does a good job, and Jungkook blinks down at him with heavy eyelids. “Yeah, fuck-- so close,” he practically mewls.

“Don’t,” Yoongi commands suddenly, chuckling darkly when Jungkook snaps his gaze down to him, like he just can’t believe Yoongi’s demanding he hold it off. Jungkook seems a little more than close-- more like he’s hanging by a thread...

“A-Are you kidding,” he huffs in disbelief, hips spasming against Yoongi’s splayed fingers.

Yoongi pulls off Jungkook’s cock a moment, letting his fingers do the work expertly so he can rasp, “You can cum-- if you beg for it.”

It’s a little evil, considering how close Jungkook is, how Yoongi’s fingering him so well that Jungkook must be seeing starts. But Yoongi’s determined to break him. He knows it’s in there, the part of Jungkook that becomes pliant and needy. Something tells him _Jungkook_ wants that part to come out, to not be so guarded all the damn time. Maybe nobody’s put in the effort.

But. Jungkook glares at him, and his features are settled back into that bratty expression, sassy and a cold kind of defiant. “Piss off,” he hisses, all the while he jerks his hips down, onto Yoongi’s fingers. Yoongi’s cock twitches again, painful.

Yoongi tsks. So maybe that was not quite enough. He retracts his fingers from Jungkook’s entrance, dryly speaking over the sound of his annoyed grunt, “You better watch your mouth if you want me to give you what you want, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook swallows hard, watching as Yoongi slides off the side of the bed and begins unbuttoning his jeans. “You like it, though,” Jungkook says. It’s almost a careful statement, more of a question anyways.

For the first time today, Yoongi thinks he might need the _reassurance_.

Yoongi smiles, but it’s not mocking. “I like when you curse like a sailor.” And it’s true. “I _don’t_ , however,” he tilts his head down at Jungkook as he sheds his tight jeans, giving his cock one good grasp just for a lack of willpower. He continues, “like it when you forget who you’re speaking to.”

Jungkook nearly freezes at Yoongi’s words save for his eyes flitting down to Yoongi’s hand gripping his horrible erection over his boxers. Yoongi hadn’t mean to come off so domineering; he doesn’t want to scare Jungkook off, maybe he should have eased into it better.

He’s about to make some comment to express that when Jungkook licks his lips tantalizingly and looks up at him with the most wide-eyed, anticipating, _submissive_ eyes. Honestly, Yoongi nearly chucks his grace and resolve out of the window and pounces on the boy then and there. He doesn’t, though, just takes his lip between his teeth roughly, padding up to the edge of the bed.

Jungkook’s eyes fall again to his dick, straining against the fabric of his boxers. He’s looking at Yoongi’s erection like it’s the best of treats and he’s a child at a candy shop. It’s really fucking hot, Yoongi thinks, Jungkook’s plain desire for him. Laughing under his breath, a little delirious, Yoongi sheds his crew neck. It falls somewhere near his jeans.

He’s tempted to let Jungkook do exactly what his eyes say what he wants to do, but he doesn’t think he’d last. And he needs to be inside of him already, needs to feel Jungkook squeeze around him. “Sweetheart,” he calls, drawing Jungkook’s attention back up to his face. He smirks, not having anything to say, really. He just wanted to see the way Jungkook does that thing he loves-- biting his lip as he smiles.

Yoongi skims his hands up Jungkook’s bare thighs once he reaches him. His thighs part for Yoongi’s body, and he’s pretty sure that alone sent a throb to his dick. He settles between Jungkook’s legs quickly. Yoongi kisses him, rough, tongue forcing it’s way forward and flooding his senses. The way that Jungkook arches his back and tries to rut down onto Yoongi’s cock should be illegal.

“You,” he grumbles huskily against Jungkook’s mouth.

Yoongi has to separate himself from Jungkook’s lips before he literally passes out from the lack of air. Jungkook is breathless too, looking up at him as he questions, “Me?”

Yoongi shakes his head for effect, dipping his head to lick a filthy stripe up his neck. “You, are killing me.”

“Yoongi,” he whines sinfully, body unknowingly bending to Yoongi’s will.

Yoongi wants to just shove Jungkook down by his solid hips, drive his cock into him over and over until he can’t remember anything but Yoongi’s name. But not yet. “Awh,” he coos. “you want me to fuck you, pretty?”

Yoongi knows he’s playing dirty when he nudges Jungkook’s hole with the head of his cock, slipping up and down. Jungkook moans throatily, practically writhing. “Yeah, _shit_ \--”

“Babe,” he sighs, the term of endearment slipping out without a thought. He’s surprised so see the way the other boy’s head tilts back and he breathes out harshly from it. It encourages Yoongi to keep going. “Won’t you say please?”

Yoongi’s fully expecting Jungkook to laugh, glare at him, spit in his face, maybe. He definitely doesn’t expect for him to squeeze his eyes shut, briefly tugging at his bottom lip and releasing it to mutter, “Please, Yoongi-hyung.”

And, yeah, Yoongi is only a man. His hips surge forward on their own accord and slip into Jungkook’s hot walls slowly while he curses, impossibly turned on. The boy underneath Yoongi breathes a moan at the feeling of it. “Fucking Christ, you’re so tight,” Yoongi hisses harshly. He really is, gripping him so hard. He’s trying to give Jungkook a moment to adjust, sure, but he’s also trying to will away the sudden, horrific possibility of cumming on the spot.

“Just _fuck_ me,” Jungkook mewls, trying to roll his hips on Yoongi’s cock.

Yoongi, somehow, manages a breathless smirk. His fingers are digging into Jungkook’s hips roughly. “ _Where_ is that please? I think I’m gonna need you to beg,” he purrs, lips brushing Jungkook’s sensitive nipples with every syllable.

A far cry from earlier, Jungkook begins to pant and moan, body going soft under him. Yoongi’s obsessed with him, transfixed on the way he keens, “Please, please-- fuck me, Yoongi. Fuck me til’ I cry a-and then some, whatever you want, just p-please--!”

Yoongi makes a snarling sound and cuts Jungkook off with the driving of his hips. Right off the bat, he sets an unforgiving pace. How could he possibly take it slow after that? When it’s _Jeon Jungkook_ that’s all tight and hot around his throbbing dick, begging for Yoongi to fuck him like that?

“ _God_ ,” he grits, the sound of his hips smacking against Jungkook’s flesh loud and enticing. He’s already got sweat inching out on his skin, his bangs hanging in his eyes. He doesn’t pay attention to it. “Gonna fuck this whole place down.”

Jungkook lets out a loud sound at that, looking like he really might cry. “Y-Yoongi,” he babbles, “Please-- my hands, can you--?”

Yoongi understands, and since the boy has just been so sweet in his pleas, he can’t deny him and miss out on the feeling of Jungkook’s hands on his bare skin. He leans up a little and releases Jungkook’s waist to untie the sheet, slowing his thrusts in the process.

Right away, Jungkook’s fingers are stretching over all the bare skin he can reach, down Yoongi’s shoulders and stomach, back up to feel his arms. Yoongi kisses Jungkook as he rolls himself inside of him. One of Jungkook’s hands finds his hair again and weaves through it, tugging in the slightest. Yoongi moans around the mess of tongues and lips.

Abruptly, Yoongi pulls back, desperate to fuck Jungkook without restriction. “Gukkie, you should see yourself. You look gorgeous,” Yoongi says, looking down at his form. He means it. “All needy for me.”

Jungkook whines, and it could be from a number of things; the slowness of Yoongi’s movements inside of him, Yoongi’s words, embarrassment, more need. Yoongi begins to shove his hips against Jungkook faster, harder. His hands clamp around Jungkook’s firm thighs to keep them up and spread for him. The shift in angle apparently has Yoongi hitting that faithful spot inside of Jungkook, because he cries out suddenly. “Please” seems to be the only word in Jungkook’s vocabulary anymore.

“What was it that you said earlier, hm?” His tone is mocking and unsteady from the sheer power of his thrusts. “You said you weren’t gonna beg. N’look at you now, you love it. Such a good boy, Kook.”

Jungkook’s moans are reaching a decent volume, body squirming uncontrollably. Yoongi’s words seem to really get to him, make him desperate. “You like when I talk like that? I can feel you squeezing me,” he laughs, out of breath and almost manic.

“Oh fuck--” Jungkook curses amongst the sound of skin and pants and moans. “P-Please, Yoongi-- I’m gonna--”

Yoongi’s brows shoot up in surprise, a wicked smile twitching at his mouth. He rasps, “You’re already about to cum?”  
  


Squeezing his eyes shut, Jungkook nods. His face is flushed and he’s sweating and his eyes are starting to brim with tears of pleasure, looking fit to burst. Yoongi doesn’t relent. He fucks him harder, if anything. “Do I just get you that good, darling? Can’t hold yourself back?”

“M’so close, m’so close,” Jungkook babbles, bordering incoherent. Who can blame him? Yoongi’s fucking the younger like an animal, adrenaline running through him and giving him some sort of blindness to any exhaustion. Jungkook is squeezing around him rapidly, trying to kill him, it seems.

“Can you cum untouched,” he asks breathlessly.

Jungkook whines high in his throat, nodding his head so fast Yoongi’s worried it gave him whiplash.

“Alright then,” he finally heaves. Yoongi, for a fleeting moment, wonders if there will be finger shaped bruises on Jungkook’s hips in the morning. Fuck knows there’s gonna be quite the collection of hickeys. “Cum on this cock, babe. Let me hear you.”

Jungkook must have been holding it off for a while, judging by the way he nearly cums on the spot, just from Yoongi’s command. his jaw drops in a silent scream, and Yoongi hisses in pain when Jungkook’s fingers dig into his arms. It’s a good feeling, though, makes Yoongi want to keep fucking him. But he can’t possibly do that with how hard Jungkook just came, orgasm making him shake and shudder. Yoongi’s forced to slow and eventually stop.

Yoongi could watch that a million times over and still find it the most entrancing thing in the world.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he pants. “There you go. So pretty, Kook.” Yoongi’s aware that he’s speaking mostly nonsense, even though he does mean it. He’s just trying to keep his head with the feeling of Jungkook still gripping his throbbing cock. “Knew you could be a good boy for me.”

Despite the comedown of Jungkook’s powerful orgasm, he moans softly at the words. Yoongi shifts his knees back up into their original place, having slid down during his feral efforts. The motion causes him to jostle inside of Jungkook, drawing a moan out of them both. Then Jungkook’s tired, sweet voice is egging him on, “Want you to cum, Yoongi.”

Unsure of why, Yoongi smiles. He can’t pinpoint it, and even as that has his dick weeping, it also has his chest warming with affection. Carefully, he pulls out of Jungkook’s hole, ready to jerk himself out to the image of him spread on the bed or something, but Jungkook cries out at the loss. “Hey, sweetheart--”

Wordlessly, Jungkook begins to sit up and roll over. Yoongi’s words die in his throat as he watches the stunning boy get on his hands and knees before Yoongi. His ass is propped up in front of Yoongi’s hips in all it’s glory, and Yoongi manages a good squeeze through his awe. Honestly, how in the fuck did Yoongi get so lucky? If he wakes up and it turns out that this was some sort of dream, he’s gonna be really pissed.

“Are you sure,” he asks carefully, because he imagines Jungkook’s body must be protesting. Yoongi grips the base of his dick tightly.

Jungkook makes a noise of irritation, wiggling his hips enticingly. “ _Yes_. Please just fuck me, while I’m still sensitive.”

Intoxicated swearing leaves Yoongi and he complies, easing himself back into Jungkook. It reminds Yoongi of the time he saw him at the coffee shop, how seeing Jungkook the second time only made him more beautiful. He’s a saint and a devil all at once.

Yoongi can’t even voice his filthy words about the way Jungkook feels before he pushes back against him, just once, wanting Yoongi to get the message. And he does, as outrageous as it is. He begins circling his hips into Jungkook, hands flat on his ass. Jungkook’s arms bend from under him, sinking his upper body down to his forearms and making an arch in his back.

“Oh shit,” Yoongi moans. The shift has him reaching deeper and has Jungkook getting impossibly tighter around his cock. Jungkook’s body looks like it should be on the cover of a magazine somewhere. “You’re a dream, _Jesus_ , so fucked out but still want more.”

Jungkook’s mostly quiet now, sated since Yoongi’s given him what he wants. His cock. _Him_. Jungkook sighs softly, “You feel so good, hyung. Just want your cum.”

Yoongi groans responsively, fucking into him harder. He can feel his orgasm creeping up on him, hurried along by Jungkook’s dirty mouth and having been neglected for so long earlier. The ache in his limbs is beginning to show up, making him aware that his body is reaching it’s limit in a number of ways. Yoongi has probably never fucked someone like he has Jungkook.

Yoongi’s hand travels down and pinches at Jungkook’s nipple without thought, resulting in a delicious squeeze around his cock. So he keeps it up, playing with Jungkook’s body in the best of ways. “You want my cum, huh,” he grits, feeling the way the brunette pushes against him in enthusiasm. Jungkook makes a soft noise of agreement, puffs of air escaping him. “How bad?”

Yoongi’s hands are restless in touching and gripping at Jungkook’s tan skin, prying his ass cheeks apart so he can lodge himself deeper with every surge of his dick. “So bad, Yoongi--”

“Say my name again,” he commands, but it sounds more like he’s begging with the way his voice is unsteady and his chest is heaving. Jungkook complies, moaning his name over and over like a mantra, squeezing his cock. Yoongi’s losing himself, thrusts growing sloppy and unfocused, tongue spewing filthy nonsense mindlessly.

“Shit, shit, shit--” he rattles off, “I’m close.”

He’s more than close, he’s pretty much there. Jungkook pushes back against him again, moaning in encouragement, and that does him in. “F-Fuck,” he stutters. His eyes practically reach the back of his skull and his fingers tighten around Jungkook’s sides as he spills himself inside of the condom in spurts. Every vein and muscle in his body throbs in time with the waves of his orgasm. “So good,” he mutters, leaning down and weakly mouthing up Jungkook’s bent spine.

Jungkook giggles tiredly at the motion and the way it sends a shudder through him. Yoongi’s heart swells at the sound of the younger’s contented hum. He smiles, swearing under his breath. Jungkook must hear the way he’s grinning in the words because he throws a look at him over his shoulder curiously. Yoongi licks his lips, “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Jungkook’s eyes actually soften at that, something like a shy smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. Yoongi’s stomach erupts into butterflies, but the feeling seems misplaced since he’s still buried to the hilt in Jungkook. Of course this is no time to get sentimental.

Yoongi pulls out, rubbing soothing patters on Jungkook’s thighs when he winces, and musters enough energy to somewhat clean up. Jungkook seems surprised at Yoongi’s show of aftercare and affection when he begins handing him some clothes and a wet rag. Something about that makes Yoongi feel awful, and he doesn’t know if it’s because Jungkook thought he wouldn’t take care of him, or if he doesn’t expect people in general to do that sort of thing. Either way, Yoongi’s determined to show him that he shouldn’t be so surprised. At least not with him.

If Yoongi thought he was tired before, by god, he must be dead by now. He practically flops into the bed, oddly pleased by the sound of Jungkook’s laugh. He’s grateful when Jungkook wiggles up beside him. The both of them fall asleep like that, wrapped around each other and utterly exhausted. Yoongi feels like a teenager again.

For a few moments, Yoongi has to force his blurry eyes open and try to understand his surroundings. When he registers the weight of Jungkook’s body pressing into his side, it all comes flooding back. The hotel room is a warmer color from the evening sunlight flowing through the window now, the thick bedding matching their body temperature.

Carefully, Yoongi stretches to the side table and manages to scoot his phone into his fingers and check the time. He vaguely registers his morning wood because it’s not that much of a surprise considering the past 24 hours. It’s past four in the afternoon, he reads, along with a bombarding slew of messages from both Hoseok and Seokjin, starting with Hoseok’s reply that seems like it was ages ago.

(12:38) Hoseok – ohhh hmmm ok I see

(12:46) Seokjin - hobi said u were taking a “nap” with jungkook

(12:47) Seokjin – have fun with that

(1:16) Seokjin – yoongi!!!

(1:16) Seokjin – please you aren’t being quiet in there

(1:18) Hoseok – I cant believe u two

(1:20) Hoseok – I was gone for like half an hour

Despite the inevitable shit show that will ensue once the two of them leave the hotel room, Yoongi smiles. Serves Seokjin right. He makes that known, sending out a quick “ _you wanted us to share a bed”_ to him. Hoseok is with him, he’ll get the message.

Yoongi slides the phone onto the side table and leans back towards Jungkook. He’s still sleeping soundly, angelic even with puffy cheeks, mussed hair, lips parted messily. It makes something crawl up Yoongi’s chest and flutter into his heart.

And he hates to disturb the peace but he thinks Jungkook might not want to sleep the day away. Softly, Yoongi begins peppering kisses up his shoulder and neck. Yoongi pokes his tongue out to run over his earlobe gently, and he’s pleasantly surprised when he hears Jungkook moan softly. A scan over his face tells him he’s still asleep.

Intrigued, Yoongi slithers his hand over Jungkook’s stomach from under the blanket, smiling down at him when the muscles twitch. Jungkook’s hips inch upwards for a second, apparently trying to draw him in. Yoongi wonders if he’s sent him to the depths of some sort of dream with his touches, what Jungkook’s seeing behind those eyelids to have his body reacting this way.

With that in mind, Yoongi watches the sleeping boy closely and begins to slide his fingers along the hem of his boxers. Jungkook’s skin is warm to the touch, relaxed, humming even. His body is putty like this, under Yoongi’s ministrations, asleep and sated after the earlier activities. It’s undeniably enticing, with a domestic undertone that just fits too well in Yoongi’s heart.

Yoongi watches Jungkook’s eyeballs flutter gently behind the lids when his long fingers slip under the soft material and find their way to his cock. Jungkook’s almost fully hard. He’s counting on Jungkook waking up soon. Just as he’s running his pointer finger over the boy’s slit, Jungkook’s eyes begin to inch open and his lashes flicker out against the light.

Jungkook’s teeth trap his bottom lip in a small, sleepy smile as he looks up at him. “You sneaky little man,” Jungkook leers at him, not missing a beat even when he’s hardly awake.

Yoongi laughs before he can help it, and his smile does not fade when he leans down and kisses Jungkook. Slow, deep, Yoongi moves against his mouth. It’s nice, it’s _good_. He likes having Jungkook like this, which is certainly a revelation. He was sure that something so intimate would have scared him away, but the only thing frightening about it is that he definitely wants this to be a regular thing.

Teasingly, Yoongi squeezes Jungkook’s morning wood in his fist without any warning as their tongues meet. Jungkook gasps against him, subconsciously arching his chest up into him in search of more. It’s absolutely implausible, this effect he has on Yoongi. “Mm, roll over”

Yeah, Yoongi definitely doesn’t want to give this up anytime soon.

After some lazy, post-nap sex, Jungkook figured that a shower was long overdue. And no matter how bad both of them wanted a cigarette, Jungkook told Yoongi decidedly that he wasn’t going to be seen by Hoseok and Seokjin in that state. So Yoongi showered with him, of course. It felt as though that sort of thing might have been a little too close, a little too much, but Jungkook had no qualms with it whatsoever. And besides, it’s horribly obvious how intimate this entire thing, this whole _day_ , has been. Any hopes of Yoongi keeping it casual were out of the window a long time ago.

And maybe if Yoongi hadn’t come harder and more in the, like, past five hours, than his entire adult life, he thinks he would have gotten hard when he helped Jungkook wash his back and shoulders. But he’s not Dwayne The Rock Johnson.

Once Jungkook and Yoongi are dressed and cleaned up, it seems that it’s time to face the music. But first, a smoke.

Thankfully, neither of them catch Hoseok or Seokjin in the hallway as they leave the room. The trip to the lobby is a mostly silent one, but Jungkook stands noticeably closer to Yoongi than usual. Well, maybe it’s only noticeable to him because of how he’s especially observant when it comes to the boy.

The lobby is busting with lots more people by now. Yoongi takes hold of Jungkook’s hand as the two of them reach the front doors, and Jungkook has the nerve to blush a little, after the way he begged Yoongi to nail him not that long ago.

“Shit,” Jungkook says under his breath, coming to stand next to Yoongi while he retrieves his cigarettes from his back pocket. “I’m glad we decided to come here early.”

Yoongi brings a cigarette to his lips and hums his agreement. “You mind if we share? Cigarettes are expensive here.” Jungkook nods easily as his eyes drift across the street that sits in front of the hotel, the park and convention center, various other buildings. Yoongi takes a long drag and has to consciously fight back a moan from the feeling it brings after not having one all day.

As he hands the cigarette to Jungkook, he seems to snap out of his thoughts and take it. Yoongi stares at the way he wraps his lips around the paper. “What’re you thinking about,” Yoongi asks, returning his attention to the long stretch of road.

Jungkook glances over at him, pulls the cigarette away and gives him this little smile that makes Yoongi want to smile too. Then he proceeds to lean forward and cup Yoongi’s jaw. He just lets Jungkook guide him until his lips are sliding against his and--

Oh. Jungkook’s blowing the smoke into his mouth.

Dumbly, Yoongi catches on and slightly kisses him back, steadily inhaling and wrapping his hands firmly around Jungkook’s waist. It’s really fucking hot and Yoongi doesn’t know where this came from. Jungkook is always full of surprises.

Yoongi follows his lips as he pulls away, no smoke left to give. Most of it just spilled out of the corners of their mouths when there was a gap. Jungkook laughs sweetly, clearly pleased by the awestruck look on Yoongi’s face, and it has his thoughts running even faster. Mischievous, he taunts him, “My, my. Where did you learn that from, little one?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes playfully at Yoongi’s tone, handing him the cigarette half-heartedly. “Namjoon was the good child, I was the bad one, remember?” Jungkook is grinning, but Yoongi is too invested in him as a person for it to soften the meaning, even if it’s just some sort of innuendo.

At first glance, Yoongi remembers Jungkook appearing reserved and calm, maybe even a little shy. And those _are_ features of his, no doubt, but sometimes Jungkook takes a drag of a cigarette like he’s a 50-year-old war veteran, and takes Yoongi’s dick like it’s a tictac with a secretly filthy mouth to match, and doesn’t even cry when his parents are pushing each other away like the opposing sides of magnets. Yoongi wants to know more about Jungkook’s past. He doesn’t talk about it, really.

“Ah,” Jungkook hisses, pulling his phone out of his pocket suddenly. “Hoseok is calling me.”

Yoongi snorts at the complaint in the younger’s tone. “Well, I’m done and we need to go up anyways,” he reasons as he squashes the ashes beneath his foot.

Turns out, Hoseok was actually just calling them to come meet him and Seokjin for dinner in the building. Both of them are feeling the hunger since they didn’t eat in favor of… well. Re-entering the lobby this time around is less suffocating, and Yoongi finds himself acutely aware of the emptiness of his hand. He doesn’t act on it, doesn’t want to be the one to make that move twice in such a short amount of time and come off clingy. Maybe it’s too late for that, but Yoongi humors his pride.

Hoseok and Seokjin are comfortably seated when Yoongi and Jungkook approach their table. Without fail, they both throw them sly grins and teasing remarks as they sit down, across from each other. “If you two are willing to control yourselves for just a moment, we should order,” Hoseok suggests smugly.

Jungkook shows no outward reaction, but Yoongi is quick to roll his eyes. “It’s not like we were fucking in the elevator on the way up,” he grumbles.

Yoongi catches the sight of Jungkook’s eyes flitting down to his lap as he says that, and he swears he sees something a little more than just embarrassment. Maybe discomfort. He has an abrupt urge to reach out and rub a soothing hand over Jungkook’s thigh.

“We wouldn’t put it past you, hyung,” Hoseok says, as if that is something that’s happened before.

The four of them order and chat mindlessly, the pretty sunset flowing in through the glass windows. Yoongi likes the view of the fields behind the hotel, the way that the sun isn’t obstructed by tall buildings. It seems like a whole different world between the front and the back of the hotel.

“So, are we not telling Namjoon about this,” Hoseok questions suddenly, out of the blue. Yoongi’s mid-chew.

Oh fuck. Right. Namjoon. Yoongi and Jungkook have not yet properly talked about what they are and what it means. Jungkook seems to be thinking something of the same, looking up at Yoongi with a frozen expression.

“Um,” Jungkook stammers, trailing off.

Seokjin kicks Hoseok under the table. “Not that we are going to _lie_ to Namjoon.”

Yoongi swallows. Great. “Guys, it’s fine. Namjoon can’t keep me in a box. He’s just been sensitive lately, is all. He’s coming around,” Jungkook shrugs, glancing between Hoseok and Seokjin. They’re eyeing him skeptically, like they don’t believe him. Like he’s just saying that so they’ll keep their mouths shut and not worry about it. “I’m serious! He even set me up with that Hyunjin guy from his old work. Really.”

Oh.

Okay, then.

Hoseok and Seokjin don’t seem to be fazed by the information, and Jungkook doesn’t seem to be fazed by having given it. Right. Well, what exactly had Yoongi been expecting? Jungkook never said that he wasn’t seeing other guys. And it’s not like the two of them are together or something. Hell, it even came up just a few weeks that Jungkook and Jimin _had_ in fact slept together at one point.

Yoongi’s been through this a million times; just sex. No strings. He’s fine with it. It’s whatever.

Yoongi hardly speaks during the rest of the meal. He doesn’t really eat, either, appetite lost. He’s kinda pissed, but he doesn’t have proper cause, so it’s a sullen emotion washing over him. It’s familiar. Hoseok and Seokjin took Jungkook’s words into consideration and dropped it for now at least. Yoongi’s relatively quiet most of the time, so nobody questions the extra silence. Sometimes he gets like this without being unhappy.

He eventually gets tired of the chatter and the mostly untouched food and the uncomfortable chair. He tells the three of them that he doesn’t feel well, and he’s tired, and he’s heading back down to the rooms.

Yoongi doesn’t bother looking at Jungkook, not wanting to see if he’s even paying attention or not. Hoseok and Seokjin question it at first, saying that it’s not even 7:30 yet. He waves them off. He’s more than proficient at doing that.

When he’s several floors down, in the hotel room, Yoongi lays down on the bed. He’s replaying Jungkook’s words, the fact that he said it like Namjoon setting him up had _worked_ , the way that it didn’t even bother him to say. Why would it? Jungkook _should_ be finding relationships. It only makes sense.

He’s only been laying there for fifteen minutes at most when the door beeps and clicks open. It’s Jungkook’s figure stepping inside from the hall, closing the door behind him. “Hey,” he greets.

“What’re you doing here?” Yoongi didn’t mean to sound so distant, but he did. His feelings are bitter.

Jungkook looks confused, stepping into the room. He nears the bed, keeping a distance like he’s aware of Yoongi’s inner turmoil. But yet, “I just came down to see if you were alright. You seemed off at dinner.”

Somehow, Jungkook’s attentive expression makes Yoongi even more sour. How can he be fine with nothing but sex and then do this? “I’m fine,” he says shortly, replying to a question that wasn’t there. “Go back up and eat.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow and his hand comes to rub at his neck slowly, thoughtfully. Yoongi looks away from him and up at the ceiling. There’s a silence that stretches forward for too long without anything happening, but Yoongi is unforgiving. He doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t look back at Jungkook. It’s a clear communication that he doesn’t want whatever Jungkook’s standing around and waiting to deliver.

“Did I do something,” he asks anyway. Yoongi refuses to look at him, doesn’t want to see how he’s sure Jungkook looks; like there’s no reason for him to be getting upset.

Yoongi rolls his eyes and sighs, already tired of this tiny thing that could hardly pass as a conversation. “S’all good. Go have fun,” he says flatly. Why, having fun sounds so appealing the way he just said it!

“Hyung,” Jungkook says evenly. “...Is this about what I said, about Hyunjin?”

“Well damn, you could’ve just lead with that,” he says in mock discovery. Why bother asking when he knows the reason? Yoongi could use another cigarette.

Yoongi lifts his phone from where he dumped it just minutes ago on the bed and brings it to his face, instantly spotting an email from one of his clients. He still doesn’t look at Jungkook.

“Look, I know how it sounded b--” Jungkook begins, but Yoongi cuts him off.

He can’t possibly force himself to listen to Jungkook in that tone—all careful, like Yoongi’s some sort of object that needs repairing after a fall—he doesn’t need to hear the rest of it. “It’s fine,” he shrugs, an underlying sharpness to his words. “Just wish you mentioned it before ‘cuz it seems pretty shady, but. That’s all. Fuck would I care for?”

Eyes on his phone, Yoongi feigns carelessness and doesn’t have it in him to watch Jungkook’s reaction. It’s admittedly shitty of him to be staring at his phone while having… whatever this is, but. His heart is hammering in his chest. Yeah, he’s kinda pissed. He forgot what it’s like to be on this end of things, since he’s spent the last year of his life flipping the script on others just to accomplish it.

“Well...” Jungkook trails off. He sounds like he doesn’t know what to say. Yoongi holds back a bitter laugh. _Don’t worry_ , he wants to mock, _you’re young. Y_ _ou don’t have to worry about feeling guilty. I’m giving you the okay, see?_

Yoongi’s speaking again before he knows it, his emotions settling into that same spot they’ve been in before and working on autopilot. “We just fucked, it’s not that big of a deal. Don’t be so concerned, seriously. I’m not.”

Yoongi finally looks away from his phone and back at Jungkook, and it’s a mistake. To his credit, he seems genuinely confused, maybe even a little hurt, too.

“That’s not--” Jungkook cuts himself off, staring at Yoongi with knitted brows and squinted eyes. Apparently he still can’t find the right words. He’s apprehensive, unsure. Yoongi has to look away, back at his phone. “Yoongi, look at me,” he suddenly says.

“Why? Jeez, Jungkook. Let it go. You were a great lay n’ all, but who said you were mine?”

Fuck. He hadn’t meant to go that far. That’s not to say the emotions inside of him don’t match, but he’s usually careful about what he says, tries not to fly off at the mouth because it leads to him saying things he feels but doesn’t mean.

It shows, too. Jungkook’s face slowly goes blank and his gaze drops to the floor distantly. Yoongi watches in immediate guilt as his eyes begin to twinkle with unshed tears, jaw clenched. There’s a knot in Yoongi’s throat, a stopper to his words.

Wordlessly, Jungkook turns and walks to the other side of the bed where his stuff is still strewn across the carpet. He quickly starts shoving things inside of his bag, bent at an angle where Yoongi can’t see his face.

Yoongi, confused, questions, “What are--”

“Don’t worry about it. Isn’t that what you just said? That you weren’t concerned?” Jungkook snaps his head up to him, still sloppily shoving things in a bag. Yoongi’s momentarily stunned from the sight of tears on the younger’s cheeks. He’s never seen Jungkook cry. He’s hardly seen him sad. If Yoongi thought he felt shitty earlier, he might need to rethink it now.

Yoongi stands from the bed. He’s at least got to figure out what in the hell Jungkook is doing. He’s on the other side of the country, with a KTX ticket that’s for tomorrow afternoon, absolutely nobody to contact, and he barely had any money just to get this hotel room a week in advance.

Jungkook scoffs suddenly, a hand threading through his hair. He squeezes his eyes shut and mutters, “ _Why_ did I think this, that you-- damn, I’m _such_ an idiot.”

He’s not, he’s really not. Yoongi’s the idiot here. Yoongi doesn’t even know what’s running through Jungkook’s head but he can guarantee that much.

“Wait,” he says weakly, trying to stop something that he created. “Just hold on for a second.”

Jungkook’s bag is bigger than normal when he slings it up from the floor. The clothes, once neatly packed, take up more space from the messy method in which they were shoved back in. “I’m just gonna switch with Hoseok or Seokjin-hyung. I’m sure they won’t mind. If they do, then, fuck, I’ll just sleep in the field out back,” Jungkook says, voice devoid of real humor. The clear meaning is that he’ll have nowhere else to go, but that’d never happen.

“Hey,” Yoongi says softly, urging him to stay. He doesn’t have the grounds to do that after all that, but he still tries. His body is taken by this horrible, sinking feeling, and Yoongi just needs him to pause.

Jungkook looks down at the floor again. “Stop that. You can’t treat me like I was on your to-do list and then try to jerk me back when you feel like it.”

That’s all he says before he turns towards the door and leaves. Yoongi can only stare at it after it clicks shut.

A long night of moping doesn’t make Yoongi feel any better in the morning. He spent hours laying awake, feeling like utter shit, replaying the quiver of Jungkook’s voice and the tears in his eyes. He wanted to come and check on him, go after him, but he figured that Jungkook probably needed space. From Yoongi especially.

Silently, Hoseok had used Jungkook’s key sometime in the night and came into the dark room. He must have sensed Yoongi’s mood—or maybe Jungkook told him—because he didn’t say a word. No teasing remarks, no pushy comments. Just crawled into bed and went to sleep. The boy can be a pain in Yoongi’s ass, but he’s a good person, considerate when he wants to be. Yoongi really appreciated it; he was beating himself up for hours on end and he needed that.

Yoongi swears he had just fallen asleep when Seokjin shakes him awake. The light is much, much too bright and his limbs feel about fifty pounds heavier. Jin is wearing a, _“Yep. I know. That’s right. Get up,”_ kind of expression, hands on his hips now as he watches Yoongi run his hands over his face.

Seokjin must know Yoongi’s really feeling shitty when he doesn’t even swear at him and ask him why he sleeps like the dead. “Well, good morning sunshine,” Jin quips.

“What,” Yoongi asks, to the point. His eyes aren’t even open all the way. He has no idea what time it is or could be.

Seokjin sighs and watches as Yoongi sits up. “I was gonna let you sleep, but it’s almost noon. We’ll only catch the last few hours of the food fair, so.”

Fuck. Yoongi forgot they were supposed to go and do that today. “Uh, right. I’ll pass.”

Yoongi really is about to roll back over and go to sleep, but Hoseok scoffs, unaccepting. “What do you mean, “You’ll pass”? You’re gonna spend all this money to come here and just stay at the hotel the whole time?”

For whatever reason, Yoongi’s eyes sting with small tears. He’s not a crier on normal circumstances, but when he’s alone or with people that he trusts, it’s different. “Why fuck, what else am I supposed to do? You want me to tag along and make the entire thing awkward?”

The older man knows he has somewhat of a point, Yoongi can tell by the way he falters. Yoongi can’t imagine that Jungkook wants to talk to him and he’d just be exhausted the whole time anyway. “Yoongi,” Seokjin sighs, unsure of what exactly to say.

“Seriously, hyung. I want you guys to have fun. I kinda fucked up with Jungkook, so… I think maybe a bit of time apart will do some good. You guys can keep him company and I can try and clear my head, yeah?”

Seokjin looks unsure, brows turned down and a contemplative look in his eye. He eventually speaks again, “Are you okay?”

Yoongi knows that means he has accepted his decision. Yoongi’s a grown ass man when it comes down to it, and even as the other man definitely pushes him into lots of things, he knows that. “I’ll be better when we’re back in Seoul, honestly.”

Seokjin nods, apparently understanding that much. His next words are kind of unexpected. “Do you love him?”

Yoongi doesn’t even try to hide the surprise on his face. Love? That’s… well. Yoongi supposes it isn’t _so_ crazy for Jin to ask that. They’ve known each other for a while now and it only took that long-ass amount of time for Yoongi to realize that he really does have goddamn heart eyes for Jungkook. He doesn’t know about love. Whether he _feels_ it for Jungkook, if he _could_ feel it for Jungkook.

It feels like Yoongi has changed, gone several years back in time. Since… his last relationship, he never would have considered loving someone, no matter how fond of them he happened to be. Love wasn’t affordable, love wasn’t practical or controllable. Some people get tattoos, some people drink. Yoongi shut love out. Emotional pain is hard to deal with; you can’t name it. Physical effects are easy; you can point to it, manage it. Makes you feel like you have control.

“I don’t know,” he responds, because he doesn’t.

Somehow that evokes a nearly identical reaction from the other boy, his jaw dropping. Seokjin knows it too. “Shit, Yoongi. I think it’s big enough considering you didn’t just sock me in the face for asking.”

A misplaced smile tugs at the corners of Yoongi’s mouth, unable to fight back from the way Jin is grinning. The moment fades after a few beats, leaving the weight of the words in the air. Or, rather, their meaning.

“Okay. Well, we’ll go, and you’ll stay. And when we come back, you better not still be moping. ‘Cuz, judging by how disappointed the guy was, I’d say Jungkookie doesn’t just want your physical goods.”

The three of them ended up leaving not even twenty minutes later. Yoongi didn’t see Jungkook, he’d went down to the lobby with Seokjin when Hoseok knocked on the door and let Yoongi know they were going.

He stands in the middle of his hotel room for a while after, just stagnant. Staring at this room, all he can think about is the way Jungkook looked in it. Smiling nervously, tangled in the sheets, walking to the bathroom, standing in his big hoodie and trying to figure out how in the fuck the coffee machine works. He never did get it.

Yoongi takes a shower. Technically, he doesn’t need to take another one. But taking advantage of hotel showers is always the number one rule when traveling. Besides, he turns up the temperature and it feels good; his skin turning pink from the scorching water is pleasing.

Afterwards, he gets dressed and decides Seokjin was right. He needs to leave this hotel, walk around, feel the bite of the cold air and quell the thick feeling in his chest. So he does. The streets are busy, especially because the food fair is still going on right across the street. It’s kind of nice. Yoongi blends into the crowd well, quiet and minding his own business.

He goes in the opposite direction of the convention center, shutting his phone off as he goes. His feet carry him.

Yoongi doesn’t get back to the hotel until a few hours later. He mostly just walked. He stopped and picked up some street food at one point, and that was about it. The air of the lobby is lighter now, familiar, even.

When he reaches his room, he unlocks it with his key and steps inside, and then there’s Jungkook.

Jungkook seems purely shocked at Yoongi’s appearance, with wide eyes and parted lips. He was sitting on the bed, but now he’s risen. Yoongi can’t even manage a hello before he crows, “Are you serious?! Where have you been, hyung?”

Yoongi blinks a few times, a little stunned. Why does he look so panicked? “I just went for a walk,” he says in confusion.

“A walk? For three hours?! Why weren’t you answering your phone?” Jungkook seems more annoyed than scared now, though he clenches his chest with his hand as he speaks.

“I just… I don’t know--”

“Well, I hope you won’t be so stupid in the future. _Jesus_ , hyung. I-- we thought something happened to you,” Jungkook says, almost exasperated.

Yoongi looks down, sheepish. Yeah, so, maybe he didn’t think that through. Is that really surprising, given his recent choices? “Sorry… I wasn’t thinking.”

“Clearly,” Jungkook retorts, finally looking away from him. He leans over and grabs his phone from the bed. Yoongi just watches, unsure of what to do in this moment. Had he really been that worried? Yoongi can’t imagine it. Jungkook is usually indifferent, saying things will work out fine, and if they won’t, it’s not a big deal. Yoongi’s about to begin another messy apology for last night when Jungkook cuts the silence again. “We’re leaving in about half an hour. Good thing you decided to come back in time, huh?”

Well, shit. That makes him feel worse. “Jungkook--”

“See you in the lobby,” he cuts Yoongi off, detached. Jungkook breezes past him and leaves it at that. Alright. Yoongi deserves that. Honestly, if it were anyone else, he’d probably still be taking one hell of a lecture. But Jungkook doesn’t do that kind of thing. Yoongi sort of wishes he did, because he feels like he needs it. He wants Jungkook to just get mad at him, for once. Even last night was just a withdrawal. Jungkook should have yelled at him, told him he was an asshole, that he didn’t deserve it. But he just… got upset and left.

Once everything is packed and the room is in relative order, Yoongi goes and sits in Seokjin and Hoseok’s room while Hoseok gets his shit together. It’s silent as he waits, up until Hoseok peers over at him. He almost looks sheepish, something Yoongi hasn’t seen much since he first met the boy. “Hyung,” Hoseok begins, pausing hesitantly. “I, um. I’m really sorry for putting you and Jungkook in the same room like I did. If I knew you guys actually like each other, I wouldn’t have been such an ass.”

“Hey,” Yoongi playfully scolds. “Don’t worry about it. I mean, yes, you’re a little shit for doing that, but it’s not your fault that I’m an idiot.”

Despite Yoongi’s attempt at reassurance, Hoseok still seems guilty. He nods, though. Yoongi’s friends may be obnoxious assholes sometimes, but they don’t _intend_ on hurting Yoongi. He tries to keep that in mind every time they pull a stunt like Hoseok and Seokjin did on this trip.

Yoongi and Hoseok eventually join Jungkook and Seokjin at the front of the building. The four of them go through the familiar steps of reaching the bus station, squeezing onto the bus, arriving at the train station, going through the gate to the platform, and eventually boarding. This time, Jungkook asks Hoseok if he wants to take his seat. Yoongi pretends it doesn’t bother him because he gets it. Nobody checks their tickets, per usual, and that’s that.

The train ride is sleepy but Yoongi doesn’t sleep. Hoseok clocked out about twenty minutes in, faintly snoring beside him the whole time. So Yoongi responded to emails from various clients and coworkers, listened to his music, even paid a bill. It took much too long without the help of WiFi.

There’s the tiring process of reaching Seoul, going through the motions. Everyone is at least mildly exhausted, so the silence is relatively mutual and appreciated.

When the four of them make it through the exit turnstiles, it’s time to separate. They all give “see you later”’s and such, thanking each other for their contribution. Despite the sour ending between Jungkook and Yoongi, it was a nice trip. Seokjin mentioned that they had a decent time at the food fair, too, so Yoongi was pleased to hear at least that was good.

When Yoongi gets back to his apartment, he instantly feels better. His bed is cold from the lack of use and since he hasn’t been controlling the heating. But it’s soft, and it’s his bed, and he sleeps like the dead.

Back in town, Yoongi was also back to work. The hours at his studio seemed longer without Jungkook’s company. He misses his random texts, inviting him here for innocent food or coffee, lots of little things that Yoongi didn’t realize meant so much to him. When there was time to give, Jungkook took up a lot of it, and Yoongi misses it.

Only two days have passed since arriving to Seoul, but Yoongi literally feels like he’s been working around the clock. It’s been two long-ass days. Seokjin invited him for dinner at his expensive flat and Yoongi tried to pass but the older man insisted.

So here he is, walking up the stairs to Jin’s place. He’s tired and sluggish since he just got off work and has slept maybe 5 hours in the past 24. But honestly, he doesn’t mind it. Seokjin’s place is nice, his food is good, and he’s usually good company.

Yoongi let himself in, as always, to the smell of pork in the air. It instantly had his stomach aching and his muscles relaxing.

“Hey,” Seokjin greets, leaning over to see Yoongi around the wall. He’s still got an apron on, a dish towel in his hands. “Let me just finish up real quick. I’ll be in there in a second.”

Yoongi nods, taking his shoes off. He moseys through the living room to the dining area and sits down tiredly. He used to be annoyed by the kind of lifestyle Seokjin has. Sure, maybe the man isn’t a billionaire or anything, but he’s better off than Yoongi. Better off than most, actually (Yoongi thinks fondly of Jungkook’s shipping container of an apartment). But that was when Yoongi was still proud of struggle. It took him a few years to humble and understand a struggle isn’t a sign of success. And which really mattered in the end?

“Alright,” the older man sighs as he rounds the corner. He’s got the steaming pan in his hand, the food smelling like a material form of nirvana. It’s some sort of pork recipe with sweet soy sauce. He sets it down and takes off his apron, hanging it over the back of his chair as he sits. “Let’s dig in, shall we?”

The food is really, really good. Yoongi hasn’t even had takeout, he’s been so busy. It’s just been packet after wrapper of shitty instant food and snacks. So this really hits the spot. Seokjin’s company is soothing, too. He’s relatively quiet, only asking questions about the biggest things in Yoongi’s current life instead of making mindless small talk. Yoongi likes spending time with him like this, one on one. Their younger friends tend to have a crackhead influence on the man.

“So,” Jin says from across the table, at least waiting until Yoongi’s comfortable. “What happened with Jungkook?”

Dammit. “Was he the one who told you something happened?”

The older man just tilts his head to the side. “Doesn’t matter. It that the reason you look like shit?”

Yoongi huffs a laugh. “I don’t know,” he shrugs, leaning back in his chair. He’s done eating but Seokjin is still going as he speaks.

“Hm,” he hums. “Well. I called you over mainly because you need to figure something out. If Namjoon finds out, not that you just slept with him, but that… I mean, he’ll be pissed.”

Namjoon and his pressure on Yoongi. The whole damn thing that makes Yoongi always nervous to engage on what he feels with Jungkook. “Why can’t he just let Jungkook be his own person? I like him, hyung.”

That isn’t as scary to say out loud as Yoongi thought it would be. It kind of makes him feel better.

“It’s not that simple, Yoongi,” Jin hesitates. “...What did you say to him that made him upset?”

Yikes. “That was a quick subject change,” Yoongi points out, even as he dodges the question.

Seokjin glares at him, mostly playful. “I’m serious. You gotta give me something to work with, or else I can’t help you. And I’d rather not let Namjoon beat your ass.”

Yoongi sighs. How can he even repeat some of the things he said? Not only are some of the words a blur by now, but they’re hard to dig up. Still, he wants to make sure things aren’t wrecked with Namjoon, because maybe then, he can still fix things with Jungkook. He’s not sure if it’s possible but he _hopes_. “I basically said some shit about… about how us having sex wasn’t a big deal, and that he was a great lay but he wasn’t mine,” he manages. He still wishes he could flush himself down the toilet for those things he said to Jungkook.

“I thought you said you _liked_ him,” Seokjin gapes. Gosh, he doesn’t have to looked so surprised; it doesn’t help.

“I _do_ , but he said Namjoon set him up with some guy and I got upset. I figured he didn’t--”

“Hold on,” Seokjin interrupts, brows knitted. He leans forward, apparently recalling that conversation. “Some guy as in Hyunjin?”

Yoongi curiously responds, “Yeah?”

Some sort of all-encompassing realization crosses Seokjin’s face, and then he’s busting out laughing. Thick, genuine squeaks leave him as he hunches over the table, clutching his stomach.

“ _What_? Yah, why are you laughing?” Yoongi’s so confused.

“Because,” he breathes. “it’s just. _Hyunjin_ ,” the man giggles again, quickly regaining his composure. “Jungkook thinks about as romantically about him a rock. But he has a huge crush on Jungkook and when Namjoon asked him about it, he didn’t want to turn him down. Because there wasn’t really a good reason for Jungkook to give other than the fact that he’s crazy into _you_.”

“Seriously,” Yoongi asks, disbelieving. Seokjin confirms it, though, and that’s a lot to think about. It definitely doesn’t make him feel any better about what happened that night. But, then there’s another thing. “So, why the hell would Namjoon set Jungkook up with some random dude but barely let me breathe in his direction?”

The older man’s face sobers a little at that question. It certainly is a good one, Yoongi knows that because he can’t imagine a single good answer. Jin speaks like he’s afraid he’ll upset Yoongi with his next words. “Well… you haven’t exactly been a saint with men lately, in the time Namjoon has known you. He just thinks you might, uh… kinda do what you did.”

It’s not upsetting for the fact of Seokjin saying it, but for the fact that it’s true. He still can’t stop thinking about how much easier things would have been if it weren’t for everyone advising Yoongi to stay away from Jungkook, like he was some kind of forbidden fruit. They’re both grown ass adults. And he voices as much to Jin.

“Sure, yeah, I agree with you there,” he nods. “But, you gotta understand, Namjoon is his brother and after… the past few years--”

“No, no,” Yoongi interrupts, tired of this. “Tell me. After what?”

Seokjin looks entirely unsure, fiddling with his plate. “I probably shouldn’t be the one to tell you this, but...” he trails off. He looks to be contemplating if he really should deliver whatever this information is.

Seokjin ends up telling.

He avoids details and gives Yoongi so many answers to so many questions he’s had since he met Jungkook. He tells Yoongi that Namjoon was always their parents favorite because he did well in school without even trying, because he was the “good” kid, never much got involved in bad crowds or hobbies. Jungkook did. Jungkook used to have shady friends and took to the streets when he got older because of the lack of support from his parents. Art was not something that could be made a career out of, they told Jungkook. His rebellious streak only made the distance between him and his parents greater.

After moving away from home, Seokjin tells him, Namjoon tried to turn over a new leaf. Jungkook and Namjoon’s relationship wasn’t the strongest given the line that had been drawn since they were children, and Namjoon wanted to change that.

And, hardly four months before he met Yoongi, Jungkook had a relationship end a little brutally. Seokjin was extra unspecific with the details of that. The guy had essentially been stealing money from Jungkook for the duration of their relationship, and when Jungkook found (freaked) out, the guy had told Jungkook that he was fucked up and he didn’t wanna fix him, so he left.

That, the older man explains, is why Namjoon is so protective. After learning all the things Jungkook faced in the shadow of his success and then watching him get hurt again, Namjoon was determined to rebuild and protect Jungkook from such things.

“He needs his support sometimes,” Jin admits from where they’ve moved to the couch. “like when Jaehyun did that to him. But… I think Namjoon forgets that he’s been through a lot, you know? he can and has taken care of himself. Joon’s just adjusting.”

The night ends not too long after that. Yoongi’s hands warm against the bottom of the container of food that Seokjin insisted he take home. It’s a comforting feeling against the freezing air while he’s walking to the bus stop. Yoongi’s head is a whirring mess of thoughts and feelings, but most of all, remorse.

From the way Seokjin had put it, Jungkook had walls that were not easily penetrated. Unbeknownst to Yoongi, he managed to surpass them. And what did he do? He went and took that trust and fucked it all up, managed to hurt Jungkook even with his precautions. The thought really eats at him.

Somehow, Yoongi manages the muster some courage and digs out his phone. Opening it, he accidentally reads Hoseok’s message that he was trying to ignore. He makes a mental note to turn off his read receipts.

The message he sends to Jungkook ends up being simple; just asking if he would be willing to meet Yoongi for coffee at the place both of them apparently like. But in reality, he typed it and retyped it about a million times before hitting send.

Shock hits him like lighting, electric and static, when Jungkook actually responds. Yoongi’s at his apartment by now, trying like hell to get some sleep. His phone pings with a message and, really, it could be anyone. But he takes a chance anyway and picks it up, spotting that it’s actually Jungkook’s name flashing across the screen.

(12:27 AM) Jungkook: Fine.

Well. Perhaps by the shortness and bluntness of the text, Yoongi should feel a little dismayed. But he just can’t bring himself to. The bottom line is, he’s going to get to see Jungkook tomorrow, and that alone gives him hope.

The day could not have gone by slower.

Yoongi’s scheduled client was near impossible to please, finicky and second-guessing every element of the track they were working on. The rest of his work was practically just pages and pages of paperwork that the creative production team needs.

There’s no telling how many cigarette breaks he took.

Though, the odd thing is, when Yoongi finally got off work, he realized that this was the day that he was supposed to meet Jungkook. And he only just got off, at two-something in the morning. So he goes home, crashes into his bed, and tries to get at least five hours or so of sleep.

But there’s a simple mistake; Yoongi forgot to set his alarm.

He doesn’t realize it when he first wakes up. He rolls around on his bed for a few minutes until his brain starts waking up and figuring out what’s on the schedule for today. And then the thought hit’s him like a charged dart, realization gripping his heart.

Yoongi all but scrambles for his phone, flipping it over in a panic. “Fuck, shit _fuck_ ,” he curses rapidly. An hour. He was supposed to be at the coffee place an _hour_ ago. What’s worse, Jungkook hasn’t sent him any texts or tried to call him. Had he even remembered? Was he planning on standing Yoongi up?

Yoongi calls Jungkook anyway as he’s shoving his limbs into some clothes, but he doesn’t answer. Once he’s [dressed](https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn%3AANd9GcTTjIxLqAyfaqhiQNBwASXLDBXSIjmF6cKPvh7oqdGf1KLaMRzI), Yoongi calls him again. He has to actually find his way through the clutter in his apartment in order to get his wallet. It’s a fucking mess, but he hasn’t had a lot of time or motivation to clean it up.

This time, Jungkook declines the call on the third ring. Yoongi’s heart is desperately trying to break his ribcage with how hard it’s beating. Okay, so maybe Yoongi has really fucked up.

His feet stomp down the cheap wood stairs of his apartment building as he calls Jungkook a third time, praying to anything he’ll answer. And maybe his heart stutters when the ringing pauses.

“Stop calling me.” It’s Jungkook’s voice, sounding flat.

“Wait, wait-- please, don’t hang up,” he pleads, panting.

There’s a really long pause where Yoongi can still hear the static of Jungkook’s end, and Yoongi has to actually check and make sure that he’s still on the line. He is. “Well, say something!”

Yoongi sighs, “I know you’re probably pissed at me--” Jungkook scoffs, because that much should be obvious. “-- _but_ I got home late and I was exhausted, I’m _really_ sorry, I just forgot to set my alarm. Are you… still at the coffee place?”

Jungkook’s the one sighing now, “No. I waited for half an hour, Hyung. If this isn’t important to you, you don’t have to humor me--”

“It _is_ ,” he says quickly, feeling like the biggest fool on the face of this Earth. “Please, just-- can I meet you at your place? Or literally anywhere else?”

Jungkook’s silence is hesitant. Yoongi wouldn’t blame him if he laughed into his phone and told Yoongi to go fuck himself. _Seriously_ , after the things he said, he stands Jungkook up.

“Fine. My place.”

Yoongi has to fight the “Wait, really?!” that bubbles up in his throat and Jungkook’s agreement. He nods, then realizes that he can’t see him. “Okay. I’ll be there in twenty.”

True to his word, Yoongi makes it to Jungkook’s place in a few minutes under 20. The fact that he’s already done something to fuck Jungkook over definitely will not make having this talk with him any easier. Yoongi is painfully aware of that.

As usual, there are no security checks or buzzing in when Yoongi enters Jungkook’s building. He knocks when he’s at the door because, obviously, the doorbell doesn’t work. Thankfully, Jungkook doesn’t leave him waiting too long, alone with his nerves.

When [he](https://mimgnews.pstatic.net/image/415/2019/01/07/201901041129490910_3_20190107075831729.jpg?type=w540) opens the door, he looks blank. He’s dressed in nothing out of the ordinary, but Yoongi finds him terribly attractive anyways, because it’s Jungkook. And Yoongi hasn’t seen him for something of a week. He’s instantly reminded of how much he misses the boy.

“Are you going to come in or are we just gonna talk like this,” Jungkook asks, deadpan. It shouldn’t make Yoongi want to smile, but it does. It’s just because it’s so Jungkook.

Yoongi steps inside to Jungkook’s sock drawer of an apartment and sheds his jacket. Halfheartedly, Jungkook gestures to his couch, signaling for Yoongi to drape the clothing over the back of the furniture as always.

Leaning against his kitchen sink, Jungkook picks up his tub of ice cream, sitting next to his beer. “I’m really not in the mood to beat around the bush,” Jungkook informs him, near mumble. He’s staring down at the container.

“Right,” he lets a breath out. Maybe straight to the point will be helpful. Yoongi looks at the floor, his feet, literally anywhere but Jungkook. It’s easier to say something when you don’t have to look at the person. “I really wasn’t sure you were going to meet me,” he says, mostly to himself.

“I wasn’t either.”

“I miss you.”

Yoongi says it, just like that. He forces himself to meet Jungkook’s eyes, and he swears it looks like he’s fighting a softness that threatens to overtake them. Jungkook doesn’t say anything to that, so Yoongi continues, fiddling with his sleeve. “I’m sorry for everything I said in Gwangju. I didn’t mean any of it. I just thought that you weren’t on the same page as I was with my feelings and I got scared.”

This time, it’s Jungkook’s eyes flickering down to the floor. He’s still not saying anything.

“I like you.”

Jungkook’s gaze jumps up. He looks doubtful. “I don’t usually give people second chances,” he warns, indecisive.

Yoongi nods in understanding, uttering, “I know.”

A long, contemplative silence stretches before the two of them. Jungkook chews on his bottom lip as he holds Yoongi’s eyes. Yoongi’s pulse is in every inch of his body.

“I like you too,” Jungkook says finally. “Unfortunately.”

But there’s the smallest of smiles twitching on Jungkook’s lips, and Yoongi knows what he means. Tentatively, Yoongi takes a step forward, beginning to grin like an idiot. “Yeah?”

Jungkook sighs heavily and rolls his eyes playfully, haphazardly setting the melting ice cream back on the counter with a thud. “ _Yes_ , Hyung.”

Of course, Yoongi’s fully aware that a proper relationship will take a lot of building, that things won’t just go back to the way they were, especially after that night. But Yoongi’s willing to put in the work. He’ll do whatever he has to do to get Jungkook to understand how much he’s come to matter to him. Honestly, he’d follow Jungkook to the edge of the Earth and jump off it to make him happy. And maybe that’s love, but when Yoongi is in love, he’ll know it.

“Can I kiss you?”

Jungkook’s smile is shy and precious. He pulls Yoongi into his lips, sending his heart to cascade into butterflies.

Yoongi _is_ in love.


End file.
